


Friday I'm In Love

by kyrene



Category: Cellular
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-09
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-12 13:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrene/pseuds/kyrene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe dumps Ryan, telling him to be honest with himself. Only he has no idea what she's talking about. And things only get more confusing from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Talya Firedancer (fyredancer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyredancer/gifts).



> Professor Thorpe is based off of Daniel Craig. Daniel Craig is actually a couple of inches shorter than Chris Evans in RL. But for the sake of this fic, Professor Thorpe is a few inches taller than the character that Chris Evans played in "Cellular". Not even because I think the Top always has to be taller (it really depends on the pairing) but just because I like it better that way here!

Going up against dirty cops to rescue a kidnapped schoolteacher and her family was great for getting free drinks, and adding zing to college conversations that might otherwise revolve around beer and titties. Ryan Ballard discovered this early on and he certainly wasn't shy about making full and frequent use of his new-found celebrity.

The flip-side to this fame, of course, was that it wasn't nearly so much fun when he had to go to court and testify against said dirty cops. Or when everything he had done that day was laid out in plain text; causing a multi-car pile-up and fleeing the scene, discharging a stolen firearm inside a public building and holding innocent people at gun point, taking off with a security guy's vehicle and getting it blown to bits, even though that last had been entirely accidental....

All that and more, and there wasn't a word of it Ryan could refute. Fortunately for him, Sgt. Mooney -- who was a genuinely decent guy for all he was a cop -- had stepped in and taken his side. And even more fortunately, Mooney didn't just know crooked Detectives, he also knew the Mayor. Evidently he'd been able to put such a good spin on things that he gained Ryan a full pardon on everything he'd done to try and help the Martin family.

Ryan had already owed Sgt. Mooney, even before this incredible intervention. The man looked a little like a mouse, short and mild, with a faintly ridiculous mustache, and Ryan never would have given him a second glance if not for everything that had gone down. But Mooney had taken out Ethan, the leader of the dirty cops, hadn't hesitated for an instant to take the killing shot. Ryan was deeply impressed. Not that he wanted to, like, become a policeman or anything. He'd had enough of people shooting at him and high speed chases to last him his entire life.

And then there was the trouble of the car he had highjacked not once, but twice. The lawyer who owned it was a real prick and wasn't at all mollified by the knowledge that Ryan had just been trying to help Jessica Martin. He'd fully intended to press charges, which Ryan had just thought sucked so hard. Jessica, or maybe her husband, had stepped in at that point, and done _something_ , and that was the end of that. Ryan was so relieved that he didn't ask questions. After all, not to sound snotty, and he'd done it because it had needed doing and for no other reason, but after all the trouble he had going through on their behalf, it was the least they could do for him in return.

All in all, even with the help of his unexpected supporters, it took months to iron everything out. Every time he thought that everything was dealt with, something else came up. At least he hadn't killed anyone, like Jessica had been forced to do. Ryan was really grateful that it hadn't come down to that for him.

As badly as the legal system could drag everything out, eventually it all came to an end. Ryan hung his suit up in the closet one last time and took a moment to breathe. If he never saw the inside of a police station or courtroom again, it would be too soon. And as grateful as he was to Mooney and Jessica for their help, he didn't much want to see either of them again. He just wanted to go back to being a simple college student, where the biggest problem he had to deal with was deciding whether to go to the latest kegger or stay in and do his homework.

He wanted things to be simple again. He should have known that even that was too much for him to ask.


	2. friday

**[friday]**

The sunlight was golden and clear but the air was crisp and the heating in the lecture hall was still broken, so most of the students were wearing their jackets, hunched over their notebooks and laptops, counting the minutes remaining until they could escape.

Ryan had forgotten to bring a jacket with him, but he wasn't feeling the cold. He also wasn't taking notes, and was in fact, deeply lost in thought. The professor's lecture was nothing but a low monotone that droned away in the background as far as he was concerned. He had more important things to focus on than European History.

More specifically, why in the hell he had turned around yesterday and found himself dumped by Chloe all over again!

He just couldn't quite figure it out. He was the hero, right? Wasn't he supposed to get the girl? Chloe had certainly seemed to appreciate his bravery directly after finding out what had really happened with the Martins and the dirty cops and everything. And she'd stuck by him through all the courtroom crap -- hell, her support had been invaluable, if he was honest. He'd proved himself to her, he'd thought, and he had thought that she cared about him.

Well, she said that she still did, but she'd pulled the "just friends" card. Which was a little better than the first time she'd dumped him for being immature. She had to admit, after the part that he had played in saving the Martin family, that he wasn't so much immature anymore... but then she'd latched onto something else entirely. And he had no clue where she'd come up with this particular flaw.

_"How can I trust you to be honest with me when you can't even be honest with yourself?"_

"What? Honest--?! What the hell does that even mean?!"

"Figure that out and you'll know why I had to break up with you."

Ryan slumped lower into his seat, gnawing viciously at the end of his pen. He'd never lied to Chloe, ever! Even before the whole dirty cop debacle he'd only stretched the truth at times, not out-and-out lied. He'd confronted her, a little angry and a lot hurt, though he didn't want her to know that last.

_"I'm not accusing you of lying, Ryan. I'm not!"_

And she'd sounded so certain and so reasonable and it just pissed him off all the more, because no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn't figure out what in the HELL she was dumping him for.

_"I can't explain it to you, Ryan, It's something you're going to have to figure out for yourself."_

"Bullshit," he mumbled under his breath. It was complete and utter bullshit and if she wanted to dump him again and make it his fault instead of hers, the least she could do was be honest with him about it. And she said that _he_ was the one who wasn't being honest!

"Have you realized yet that class ended four minutes ago?"

Ryan glanced upward in shock, mouth falling open. "Uh...."

It wasn't even as though it was a fellow student that had asked the question. No, they'd all vanished when the class ended, naturally enough. Which had left it up to Professor Thorpe to startle him from his distraction. Which was... well, kind of embarrassing.

One corner of the professor's mouth was quirked up in rather mocking manner that made Ryan's hackles instinctively rise, even though he was the one who was in the wrong here. The man was tall, looming over his desk, his ice-blue eyes piercing, his suit perfectly pressed, as always, but his short hair unruly, reminding Ryan of tufts of straw. Ryan noticed the way the sunlight caught in the bristles of the professor's neatly-trimmed beard and realized that it was a dirty blonde, not grey, like he had thought all this time. In fact, this was the first time he'd spoken to Professor Thorpe this closely. The man was a lot younger than he had always assumed, seeing him lecturing at the head of the room with his crisp British accent and big words.

"S-sorry," Ryan managed to stutter, fumbling for his backpack as he jumped to his feet. He felt at a disadvantage, seated. Standing, he was still an inch or two shorter than the professor, but at least he didn't have to look up quite so far. "Sorry, I didn't...."

Professor Thorpe folded his arms, the material of his dun color jacket crinkling at the insides of his elbows, much like the flesh at the corners of his eyes did. He looked as though he was smiling, even though he wasn't.

"I'm a little concerned about your academics," the professor continued, as though he had approached Ryan for this express purpose, and not to rouse him from his daydreams after the class had ended. "Of course, it's understandable that you fell a bit behind with all of the complications that you've had to deal with lately. But I have to say that I feel as though you're not trying hard enough to catch up."

Ryan grimaced. If he could have argued, he would have, but he really couldn't. Even before Chloe had dumped him -- just yesterday, but it already seemed ages ago -- he'd been having trouble in European History; more so than any of his other courses.

"I-- Well, to be honest," he offered, sending Chloe a mental raspberry, wherever she was, because he could _so_ be honest, no matter what she thought! "I'm having a little trouble seeing where I'll be able to apply European History in my future career."

The professor lifted one brow, his mouth pursing. He didn't look disapproving or insulted, just curious. "Understandable. So. What career is it that you are looking to pursue?"

Ryan flushed, hating himself for the rush of heat to his cheeks and ears, but not able to help it. "Well, that I... I don't really know," he was forced to admit.

"You just know that it won't involve European History, huh?" Professor Thorpe chuckled, surprising Ryan. "Well, I suppose if you're looking for practical application, then you're probably right. But I'm a little disappointed nonetheless, Ryan. Once a man commits to taking a course, I really feel that he ought to give it his best effort."

Ryan bit back the retort that that was exactly what he had done when Jessica Martin had begged him for help, and look what it had gotten him! But he didn't regret that, at least not very much or very often. And Professor Thorpe was right, if a bit stodgy and overly idealistic. "Yeah, I know," he mumbled, glaring down at the worn hardwood floor. "It's just-- Things've been--"

He glanced up through his lashes in startlement when a large hand clapped momentarily to his shoulder. "If there's something that you feel you can talk to me about...."

Ryan shrugged uncomfortably, twisting his backpack strap around one wrist. This was a little weird, wasn't it? His European History professor offering to _talk_. "Thanks, but that's what the school guidance counselor is for, isn't it?"

"Ms. Trelawny?" Professor Thorpe snorted. "I wouldn't trust that woman to guide me out of an empty closet!"

This startled a laugh out of Ryan before he realized. He clapped a hand over his mouth belatedly, and the professor smirked at him. He didn't know what else to call that quirk of the lips but a smirk.

"Well, my offer stands," the professor said smoothly. "I'd like to think that there's something that I can offer you, even if you don't feel that there's any room for European History in your future."

Ryan opened his mouth and closed it again, then flushed. Those pale blue eyes were fixed on his own, and he didn't want to appear ungrateful, even though this was really all just too weird. "Okay. Um, thanks."

Professor Thorpe grinned at him, a sharp slice of straight white teeth, and then gave a brief nod. "Have a good weekend, Ryan. Look forward to seeing you Monday morning."

"Uh, yeah. You too."

Ryan made a quick retreat, cursing himself for being so lost in thought that this whole bizarre conversation had happened. Not that he had anything against Professor Thorpe, but that had been decidedly odd.

As if he'd talk to his European History professor about his love life. Or anything else for that matter.

Just not happening.


	3. saturday

**[saturday]**

Ryan genuinely liked working out. When everything got too hectic and stressful in his life, it was good to have somewhere he could go to lose himself in simple physical exertion.

He usually tried to hit the gym for a couple of hours each day, when he could fit it into his schedule. Lately, he hadn't been able to, of course, but now... well, Chloe had left him with a lot of spare time. He wasn't going to thank her for that, but he did make it a point to get to the gym early on Saturday morning.

It was better than sitting at home feeling sorry for himself. As tempting as that option was.

Even though it had been a while, Ryan fell back into his usual routine easily enough. He felt the burn in his muscles, in his lungs, felt the trickle of sweat that was so familiar.... He'd missed it. He promised himself he wouldn't let it go this long again. Not that he'd had much choice in the matter, of course.

This early, and on a weekend, there weren't a lot of other people, especially in the weights room. Ryan didn't try to push himself too hard; after all, it had been a while, and it was better to ease back into these things.

He pumped his arms, absently thinking about a late breakfast after he was done here, about how good the showers were going to feel, about the fact that Chad was going to be pissed off that he'd come without him, but it was really more trouble than it was worth to try to get his friend out of bed before eleven-thirty on a Saturday morning.

Suddenly he became aware that while his mind had been wandering his gaze had also been wandering, when he saw a familiar figure across the room. At least, he thought on first glance that the man was familiar. On second glance, not so much. Then, when he gave up on being discrete and out-and-out stared, he realized _why_ the figure on the weight machine across the room looked familiar, after all.

"Holy fuck!"

It was just that one didn't expect to see one of one's college professors out in the real world. Much less in one's own gym, working out on a Saturday morning. And seeing Professor Thorpe in nothing but a tank and a pair of black running shorts... damn, the professor had one hell of a body to work out!

"God, Chad's not going to believe this!" Ryan gasped, his eyes wide. Of course, Chad didn't know Professor Thorpe from Adam West, but Ryan had to tell _somebody_. His European History professor was working out. In his own gym. And he... hell, he had a body that threatened to put Ryan to shame, and he'd thought that he was pretty nicely buffed, if he did say so himself.

Realizing that he'd begun to let his own workout slack as he gawked, Ryan got back to his weights. That didn't prevent him from watching Professor Thorpe working out in turn, however.

Clearly, the man was younger than Ryan had thought. The beard had totally misled him, he decided. Well, and the whole "college professor" thing. No one expected a college professor to be _hot_!

Realizing that his thoughts had taken a decidedly weird turn, Ryan frowned at himself. Just because Professor Thorpe had perfectly sculpted arms and legs, and his tank hugged swelling pectoral muscles, didn't mean that the man was hot. He was.... He was just Ryan's European History professor. He gave concise, slightly boring lectures, and he was a _professor_.

Professors weren't allowed to be hot, end of story.

By the time he'd come to this natural conclusion, Ryan discovered that he was alone in the weight room. He contemplated the very real possibility of running across Professor Thorpe in the locker room, in the showers, and -- screw Chloe -- he was honest enough with himself to admit that he kept lifting the weights longer than he otherwise would have been inclined, simply to avoid that potential encounter.

Hell, it was weird enough seeing his professor in his gym, working out and _looking_ as though he worked out. It would have just blown Ryan's mind if he'd had to see Professor Thorpe in any further state of undress. He shuddered at the very thought. That just.... That just wasn't right. Not at all.

By the time he finished up and left, all he could concentrate on was the way his arms were limp and quivering from the extended weight lifting. Okay, maybe not his brightest move ever.

His cell phone rang in his pocket. He felt a bit of trepidation pulling it out, as he always did now, ever since that life-altering phone call from Jessica Martin, but it was only Chad.

"Dude, where the hell are you?" his friend asked without preamble.

Ryan glanced at the time; eleven-forty on the dot. Chad was nothing if not predictable. "I was at the gym," he replied, thinking vaguely that he shouldn't be talking on his phone while driving, but it was only Chad, after all. "I'm on my way home now. And you'll never guess who I saw there!"

"You douche!" Chad wasn't really listening, as expected expressing his outrage at being left behind. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Because I hate trying to wake you up before noon on a Saturday," Ryan answered bluntly. "It was Professor Thorpe! He was at the gym working out!"

"Who?" Chad sounded, understandably, lost. "You're still a prick, you totally should have woken me up!"

"My European History professor," Ryan clarified, though why it should matter to Chad, or even to him, and why he wanted so badly to share the news was beyond him. It was just... it had been so _weird_! Too weird to keep to himself. "Professor Thorpe."

"Whatever." Chad sounded dismissive, and Ryan could hear the clatter of clashing ceramics in the background, the sputter of their old coffee maker. "Hey, there's a party at Sharona's tonight, are you coming?"

"Will Chloe be there?" Ryan asked, chewing on his lower lip as his Bronco idled at a red light.

"God!" And maybe he couldn't blame Chad for the tone of disgust in his voice. "Are you going to stay away if I say yes? Or if I say no?"

And the hell of it was, Ryan wasn't sure of the answer to either of those questions. But pondering over it all the way home definitely distracted him from the novelty of seeing Professor Thorpe at the gym. And, in the end, when he decided not to go to the party, it had nothing whatsoever to do with whether Chloe was going to be there or not.

He was just too tired and sore from his foolishly extended workout to go, that was all.


	4. sunday

**[sunday]**

"What the hell does she mean, I'm not being honest?"

Ryan was uncomfortably aware that he was whining. Not that he felt bad for subjecting Chad to his whining; he'd had to put up with enough of Chad's whining, bitching, moaning, and sometimes drunken slurring in the past. They were good friends so there was no keeping score anymore; they'd be there for each other except when they weren't. And if he should have been a little ashamed of himself for the whine in his voice, well, it wasn't as though it wasn't warranted.

"I think her exact words were that you weren't being honest _with yourself_ ," Chad prompted, where he was slouched on the recliner. Ryan was stretched out over the loveseat, the sofa piled with dirty laundry. It was Wallace's turn to wash clothes, which explained why it hadn't been done in days. The bastard. Except for the prompt delivery of his share of the rent, the guy was completely useless as a roommate.

"Just what does _that_ mean?!" Ryan cried, throwing up his hands in despair.

"Hell if I know," Chad shrugged, crossing his feet at the ankles on top of the coffee table. "It's some sort of cryptic chick bullshit that's only supposed to _sound_ like it makes sense. They toss it at us and then watch us drive ourselves crazy trying to figure it out. I swear they get off on it."

Ryan chuckled, amused despite himself, then chewed on his lower lip, his brow creasing in a frown. "I don't think so," he mused, lacing his hands behind his head and scowling up at the ceiling. "Chloe seemed pretty serious when she said it. Like I was supposed to understand. And she was upset; it's not like she was just playing with me. She meant it. I just don't know what she _meant_."

"Dude, dunno why you think _I_ can help you figure it out," Chad drawled. "I haven't had a steady girlfriend since Junior High. Too much trouble." He rolled slightly, thumping his feet down on the floor as though he was thinking about getting up but not quite ready to commit yet. "Hey, you wanna go out and get a couple drinks?"

"It's three in the afternoon," Ryan pointed out. "On a Sunday!"

"So?"

Ryan frowned. "So have you even started your homework yet?"

Chad snorted. "God, you're starting to sound as uptight as Chloe!" He rolled his eyes expressively. "Are you sure she didn't just dump your ass because you're not the Bad Boy anymore?!"

"Hey, Chad." Ryan sat up, glaring, and presented both hands, middle fingers extended. "Fuck you!"

Chad fell back into his chair chortling, and after a moment Ryan reluctantly joined him in his laughter. Chad could be a complete ass at times, but he was a true friend and he'd consistently kept things in Ryan's life light when otherwise he might have been overwhelmed by all the crap he'd had to deal with recently.

"You're such a prick," Ryan grumbled, thinking that actually a couple of drinks didn't sound half bad, and there'd still be time after to do his homework.... But he knew how that would go, and he didn't want to start his week hungover and without any work to turn in. He had European History first thing tomorrow, and he'd be damned if he showed up in Professor Thorpe's class with empty hands!

"I think Milo has a six pack in the fridge," Chad was musing, evidently having decided that he was too lazy to venture from the apartment after all. "We could just borrow that."

"No way," Ryan avowed fervently, shaking his head against the loveseat cushion. "Remember what happened last time we did that?!"

"Oh, yeah." Chad yawned widely. "Well, what do you want to do, then? Sit here and whimper over Chloe some more?"

"I'm up for it if you are," Ryan replied, grinning weakly. Then he sighed heavily. "Sorry, man. It's just that....."

"Yeah, I know." Chad sat up, pushing overlong bangs out of his face. "She's always had you all turned around, even back when she wasn't right for you. Seriously, dude, I don't have a clue why she dumped you. Things seemed to be going well, as far as I could tell. And she really cares-- cared about you...."

"Yeah, dig the knife in deeper," Ryan growled. But it was true. And Chad might have switched to past tense, but Ryan was pretty sure that Chloe had been entirely serious when she'd said she wanted to stay friends. She still cared, she just... what? Wasn't in love with him anymore?

"Man, this _sucks_ ," he whined, slumping into the loveseat.

Maybe Chad was onto something. Maybe Chloe was dumping him because he was _too_ responsible, because things in his life had been too heavy and stressful lately. But he knew in his heart that this wasn't the cause. Chloe was a great girl and a good friend. She'd been there for him the whole time he'd been going through hell and back.... A horrible thought struck him.

"Hey, you think maybe Chloe's been wanting to dump me all along?" he asked, speaking over the low groan of exasperation that Chad loosed. "I mean, maybe she just didn't dump me earlier because she didn't want to feel guilty for leaving me while I was going to Court and everything. Maybe she always thought it was a mistake, that _we_ were a mistake, that _I_ was a mistake, but she was too nice to dump my ass!"

Chad snorted. "No one's that selfless, Ryan. Not even Chloe." He sat up, frowning at Ryan. "All right, since you're obviously not going to let this go, you're going to have to start thinking about it logically, instead of emotionally."

"What are you, a Psych Major?" Ryan queried caustically.

Chad's wide mouth twisted into a sheepish grin. "Well, actually...."

Ryan blinked, more than a little stunned. He never had paid much attention to the courses Chad was taking, assuming that like him, his friend had no idea of what he was really in school _for_.

"But that aside," Chad pursued, planting his elbows on his thighs and leaning forward. "What was it that Chloe said to you?"

"That she couldn't trust me to be honest with her when I couldn't even be honest with myself," Ryan reeled off easily. It wasn't as though the words were etched into his brain or anything. They didn't make any more sense for every time he prodded at them like a loose tooth, though.

"Okay, that gives us something," Chad said calmly, ignoring the bitterness in Ryan's tone. "She's seeing something about you that you're not seeing."

"Bullshit," Ryan snarled, shifting discontentedly where he lay on the loveseat. "She's not seeing anything. She just wanted to dump me in a way that left the guilt on me."

Chad sighed. "You know that's not true, Ryan."

"Well, do _you_ think there's any way I'm not being honest?!" Ryan demanded, sitting up and running a frustrated hand through his hair. "With myself _or_ with anyone else?!"

Chad shrugged. "Not really. But I don't spend as much time with you as Chloe does. Did. Whatever. And chicks have that feminine intuition and stuff."

Ryan made a rude sound to show his opinion of _that_. Like a girl, even Chloe, would know him better than he knew himself just because of some insight that only those with vaginas were blessed with.

"Bullshit," he repeated.

Chad rolled his eyes. "Like it or not, she's seeing something you're not. Whether it's _there_ is irrelevant. You're not going to have a third chance with Chloe until you figure out what it is and how she wants you to change it."

"Hmph." Ryan frowned, plucking at his lower lip thoughtfully. Chad was onto something, after all. "I think you're right." He gazed soulfully at his friend. "So what do you think I should do?"

Chad threw a pillow at him and growled. "I'd just _ask_ her," he snapped. "Quit all the whining and annoying my friends!"

Ryan pulled a face. His pride wouldn't stand for that; he had to figure this one out himself. He'd figure out what Chloe had meant, and then he'd show her how wrong she'd been, and how stupid it had been to break up with him over this imaginary dishonesty.

"Are you going to help me?" he asked Chad, as his friend reached for the phone.

"What, ask her?"

"No! Help me figure it out!"

Chad gave him an incredulous look and shook his head. "I'm ordering a pizza," he informed Ryan seriously as he punched in the speed dial numbers for the local pizzeria. "You want sausage on your half?"

Ryan nodded absently and settled back into the loveseat. Chad hadn't said "no" flat out.... And he'd had a really good idea. Not that Ryan wouldn't have come up with it himself... eventually.

"Twenty minutes," Chad informed him, hanging up the phone. "You owe me fifteen bucks. I got breadsticks too."

"Not being honest with myself." Ryan snorted. Like he was so complex.

"You're such an idiot," Chad informed him affectionately from the recliner. And in this moment, Ryan wasn't really all that inclined to disagree with him.

"I'll figure this out yet," he vowed. "Just you wait and see!"

"Sure, sure."

Chad looked less convinced than he did indulgent, but it was a start.

"I'll figure it out," Ryan mumbled determinedly.

After all, what was the alternative?


	5. monday

**[monday]**

Ryan had always thought that it was supremely unfair that European History was not only his last class on Friday, but also his first class on Monday morning. When he was still recovering from the weekend, early enough that he ought to still be in bed, and it wasn't as though it was a very exciting subject, now, was it?

Well, not that Professor Thorpe was boring or anything. But the subject wasn't one that gripped and held Ryan's attention, so he thought that it was hardly surprising that he usually found himself drifting off, daydreaming, sometimes even dozing, until class finally let out.

Not today, though.

It was weird, he decided. Viewing the professor with new eyes, just because he'd seen him in casual clothing, outside the realm of the classroom. Seen Professor Thorpe sweaty and a little flushed, actually, from his workout. It was like he wasn't the same man anymore... and yet he was.

They'd fixed the heat, and it was going full power now. Ryan was glad he'd dressed in layers that morning. Combined with the sun pouring in through the windows, the lecture hall was like a sauna. He shed his coat before the lesson even started. His flannel followed within the first ten minutes. And if he'd thought he could get away with stripping off his teeshirt, he would have. Too bad he hadn't worn swim trunks under his jeans; he totally would have gone there.

Professor Thorpe looked cool enough, where he was standing at the head of the hall. Only, not really. Because after the first half hour, Ryan noticed that the professor had taken off his suit jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt, and his collar was unbuttoned above his loosened tie.

Ryan stared. It was like seeing Professor Thorpe in the gym, only different all over again.

The professor's forearms were corded with muscle, Ryan noted. Not that he hadn't seen that in the gym, but it was... well, for some reason it was just _different_ , seeing it in the classroom like this.

Ryan eyed the flex of thick muscles under skin as Professor Thorpe picked up a pen and toyed with it. He knew that the man was talking about something having to do with colonialism and imperialism, but he just couldn't bring himself to pay any attention. It was too hot in here. He could feel the heat pulsing in his cheeks, rising off of his upper chest in waves. It was prickling over his shoulderblades and pounding in the veins at his wrists and temples. He felt almost like he did when he got too much sun at the beach, or when he paused during an intense workout. Dammit, when were they going to fix the temperature controls in here?!

Professor Thorpe didn't seem affected by the heat, though there was maybe a faint tinge of a flush marking the tops of his high cheekbones, and he _had_ shed some of his clothing. Ryan was pretty sure this was the first time he'd seen the professor without his jacket. Outside of the gym, that was, but that had been a strange encounter, a deviation from the norm. Something that Ryan sincerely hoped wouldn't happen again.

Ryan chewed on his lower lip, watching Professor Thorpe write something on the chalkboard, wiping his hand absently on his slacks, before seating himself on the outside edge of his desk. The chalk streak stood out on the dark material of his slacks, stretched out over muscles that Ryan knew were hard and perfectly defined. Usually Professor Thorpe wore khaki or camel colored slacks, so he probably hadn't thought before marking himself with the chalk. Actually, from the intent expression on his face and the light in his pale blue eyes, he was so involved in his lesson that he just hadn't stopped to think about the motion at all.

Ryan found his gaze mesmerized, fixed on that pale strip of powdery residue. The girl next to him was using her coil notebook to fan her face, but the air that puffed off of her and struck Ryan lightly felt just as warm to him as the rest of the room. God, he was just burning up! Couldn't Professor Thorpe have pity on them and end the class early for once?!

The man didn't look like he was inclined to leave off any time soon, however. He just sat there on the edge of his desk, his hands clasped on his lap, those bared forearms resting on hard, thick thighs, his eyes gleaming as he talked away.

Ryan wished he had a Gatorade, or even some water. His throat was dry and his breath was catching in his chest. This room was just... way too hot. Maybe if someone passed out, they'd get to leave early.

Dragging his eyes away from Professor Thorpe's thighs, Ryan glanced around. There were a few flushed faces and the girl beside him was still waving her make-shift fan, causing her wispy blonde bangs to flutter over her brow, but no one else looked anywhere near as uncomfortable as he felt. And that just wasn't fair, didn't seem right.

Ryan made a mental note to talk to someone about the problem with the heating, though he knew he wouldn't, and even if he did, it wouldn't do any good. But, dammit, it was the principle of the thing! How was anyone supposed to be able to concentrate when the room was this warm?

He sighed, planting his chin on his fist and staring at Professor Thorpe. The professor made a point, waving his hand, and Ryan noted that his palms were wide but his fingers were graceful. There was still a echo of pale chalk on his forefinger and the pad of his thumb. Ryan slumped in his seat and gnawed on his lower lip, wondering why he had noticed that, and more importantly, why it seemed to matter at all, why he couldn't tear his gaze away.

"All right." Professor Thorpe stood, his slacks sliding loose around his legs again, masking the musculature beneath the thick material. He was grinning at the class, and Ryan wondered what he'd missed hearing, that had put the man in such a good mood. Especially when it was so uncomfortably sweltering in here. "Thank you, everyone, for turning in your homework on time. I know that's not always easy on a Monday morning. And I'll see you all again on Friday."

Ryan felt a little guilty as he collected himself to leave the hall, joining his classmates as they rustled and spoke quietly. It was a new record; he'd made it all the way through the entire class and hadn't heard a single word the professor had said. He was so screwed. And he couldn't even blame Chloe and her dumping of his ass for distracting him.

The hell of it was that he hadn't thought of Chloe once during the entire class.

That was just weird.

He half expected Professor Thorpe to call him up and nail him for not paying attention during the lecture, but he made it out of the hall safely and headed for his next class.

If this was the way the rest of the year was going to go, he was in deep trouble.


	6. tuesday

**[tuesday]**

Ryan got out of Spanish at three o'clock on Tuesdays, and didn't have any more classes that day, which suited him down to the ground. He knew that Chloe had Comparative Lit. and that she would be hitting the common area around four, so even after he was free he kind of hung around.

He hadn't come any closer to figuring out why she had dumped him, what it was she thought that he wasn't being honest about, and he was half inclined to go with Chad's suggestion and just _ask_ her. He didn't think he could really make himself do it, face to face, but maybe if he grabbed a chance to talk to her, she might give him a clue or something. She owed him that much, at least.

So here he was, his butt precariously balanced on the top of a park bench, feet on the seat, his backpack between his calves. The sun was shining, warming his shoulders, and he squinted, wishing that he hadn't forgotten his sunglasses in his Bronco.

"Well. Hello there, Ryan."

He blinked, wondering if he was sun-dazzled, even though the sun was _behind_ him, because he didn't recognize the man standing before him, even though he _knew_ that voice.

"Professor Thorpe?!" he gasped, then flushed because he had sounded way too surprised, probably sounded like a complete idiot. "You shaved," he said stupidly, teetering on the bench and staring.

The corners of the professor's eyes crinkled as he smiled. He was indeed clean-shaven now, which went a long way toward explaining why Ryan'd had trouble recognizing him for an instant.

It turned out that Professor Thorpe had a strong jaw, and now that it wasn't all bristly and distracting, Ryan took note of the thin upper lip and lush lower lip that were twisted in a decidedly sardonic smile. The professor was amused, and Ryan supposed he really couldn't blame him.

"Uh, I mean....." But he had to let that thought trail away, because what he'd said had been exactly what he'd been thinking, and there was nothing else that popped immediately to mind.

"You looked as though you were pondering something quite deeply," the professor said, grinning at Ryan. He was wearing a pair of jeans instead of slacks, his hands in his pockets. A crisp dress shirt but no tie, the cuffs buttoned around his wrists. He looked casual yet respectable... but it was really the lack of a beard that captured and held Ryan's attention. Was he really that shallow? And why would it make any difference in anything? Even though its lack made the professor appear younger and somehow more approachable.

"I-- Yeah." Ryan grimaced, dragging a hand through his hair. He fought the urge to say, _you see, there's this girl..._ because even though Professor Thorpe had offered on Friday to talk to him about whatever was bothering him, that really wasn't the sort of thing that anyone talked to their European History professor about.

Seriously.

"Hm." Professor Thorpe tilted his head to one side, his intense ice-blue eyes fixed on Ryan's face. He looked thoughtful, his mouth pursed, and Ryan had to fight to meet that gaze, to look up from that mouth that he was really noticing for the first time, fighting not to look as uncomfortable and weirded out as he felt. "Would you like to go and get some coffee with me?"

"I, uh...." Ryan blinked, knowing that he had heard that wrong. Professors didn't invite their students out for coffee. Like, ever. Why would--?

"Tell me honestly, Ryan," Professor Thorpe said, and his grin was wide and white, his eyes flashing bright between the smile crinkles. "Did you hear a single word of my lesson yesterday?"

Ryan swallowed tightly, feeling something in his throat click. Suddenly coffee, or anything liquid for that matter, sounded like a great idea. "I.... So, coffee?"

Not that he was letting Professor Thorpe blackmail him. Not at all. But if he'd spent the entirety of the man's lecture with his mind elsewhere, the least he could do was offer an explanation.

He remembered belatedly that he hadn't actually been thinking about Chloe during Professor Thorpe's lecture. He did his best to hide his flush of embarrassment by getting to his feet and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

They were both silent as they walked across the common area, heading for the locally owned coffee shop that was just off campus and frequented by students looking for caffeine, a place to study, or just a place to meet and talk to their friends. Ryan kept expecting to wake up, find he was in bed, having a particularly bizarre dream, but it just never happened, and then they were sitting at a small table in the back of the coffee shop, Ryan with a hazelnut latte and the professor with a cup of black coffee.

"So. Uh." Ryan settled his backpack between his feet and sipped at his drink, wondering whether he'd be able to get a complete sentence out some time today. This was so weird. Chad was never going to believe it.

"I'm sorry if you had plans," Professor Thorpe murmured, giving Ryan a sly look through pale lashes. He didn't look very sorry, Ryan thought, and his brow twitched.

"No plans," he demurred, because it was true. He'd kind of been planning to shanghai Chloe... but that wasn't really a _plan_ , so much as a self destructive indulgence. And it probably would have gone badly, he was cognizant enough to admit to himself.

"That's good to hear." Professor Thorpe smiled at Ryan, and before he could stop himself he smiled back. "I was afraid you'd think that I coerced you here or something.

Ryan flushed, even more embarrassed because he knew that his cheeks were turning red. "I-- That was-- I'm sorry, Professor Thorpe. It's not that I didn't take what you said to me on Friday seriously. I did. It's just that.... Well, things have been a little weird lately."

"That's likely an understatement, if half the rumors I hear on campus are true," the professor said, his tone dry and crackling, but his expression sympathetic. "And you can call me Daniel."

Ryan blinked, knowing that his mouth was hanging open but unable to do anything about it. "O-okay." His teeth clacked together as he managed to get his jaw back into its usual place.

"So." The professor sat back, crossing his legs, the jeans worn thin and soft over his knees. His eyes were bright where they fixed on Ryan's face. "Tell me why you decided to take European History, if it's not anything you can see using in your future career."

Ryan flushed again, though he hated himself for it, biting his lower lip and wrapping his hands around his mug. "Well, I thought it was going to easy," he replied honestly, before he could think better of it.

He was only a little surprised when Professor Thorpe -- Daniel, what the fuck? -- threw his head back and gave vent to a great belly laugh.

"You did?" He speared Ryan with a piercing gaze. "What ever gave you that idea?"

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. He was self aware enough to be bemused by his own ignorance. "Well, I never had any trouble with History when I was in High School...."

The professor snorted, but mercifully refrained from commenting.

"Yeah, it's actually a lot more complicated than I expected," Ryan admitted, settling into his own chair and sipping his latte. It was excellent -- it wasn't just because this place was close to the school that it was so popular. The sandwiches were good too, but Ryan wasn't hungry yet. "I mean, obviously it would be. But there's _really_ more to it than I ever would have expected." He grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

"Are you doing all right?" Professor Thorpe -- he just _couldn't_ think of him as Daniel -- asked earnestly. "Not in my class, I mean. With all your legal difficulties."

Ryan was a little taken aback, not expecting the query to be put forward so bluntly. Not that he minded; he really hated it when people danced around the issue and tried to use veiled references, as though if they were delicate about it, it wouldn't bother him as much to answer. He didn't care much for the drunken questions that didn't try to pull any punches at all, either, but that was usually brazen prying. The professor seemed to honestly care about his answer, about how he was doing.

"Yeah, I think they're finally behind me," he answered candidly. It was like a sigh of relief to be able to voice that reply, and he took a moment to savor the words. "Considering how many laws I broke, I guess I can consider myself lucky."

The professor snerked, but he didn't really seem amused, his eyes appearing several shades darker than the usual bright blue where they were fixed on Ryan's gaze. "Well, there are at least three people alive today because of you. I don't think that's anything to sneeze at."

Ryan bit back a grin at that archaic turn of phrase. "Sometimes I feel really bad," he blurted, before he could stop the words from leaving his lips. "About that first accident that I caused. A lot of people got hurt and a lot of cars got wrecked, and it was my fault."

"No one was killed, though." Daniel's voice was a smooth rumble. "And it wasn't anything you did deliberately. I'm sure that Jessica Martin would express her gratitude. I'm sure that she _has_."

Ryan shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable, but maybe a little bit comforted. It was true that there hadn't been any major injuries. And everyone who had been involved in the pile-up had been insured; miracle of freaking miracles in the Los Angeles area.

"I still have nightmares," he whispered, half hoping that the professor wouldn't hear him, but completely unable to help himself speaking, unable to stop talking. "About things blowing up. About getting shot. About being too late and seeing the Martins dead...."

The professor's hand was warm atop his, the touch light but grounding him as nothing so far had done. Not even the tightest, warmest, most loving of Chloe's hugs. Of course, Chloe was a girl and smaller than Ryan. Even though she was strong, much stronger than any female he had ever known -- aside from Jessica Martin, who was like a super woman or something -- _he_ was supposed to protect _her_ , not the other way around. Not that he felt like he needed a bigger, more powerful man to protect him, of course! He wasn't weak like that. But it was just kind of... nice, knowing that the intent was there. Even if he wasn't going to take Daniel up on his silent offer of comfort.

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, or surprised by," Professor Thorpe was saying, and Ryan met his eyes, puzzled to see the understanding there, to recognize it for what it was. Daniel really did understand, somehow. "I'd be more surprised if you _didn't_ have lingering effects. You went through a lot of stressful, life-or-death situations in a short period of time. Your brain has a lot of crazy stimuli and input to sort out, and some of it will probably never leave you. Being shot isn't anything you can just shrug off."

Ryan stared. It sounded... it sounded like the professor really did understand, like he knew what it was like to be shot at, to have lives hanging in your hands. And that was just the weirdest of the weird in a weird day, a weird week, because he was a freaking _European History_ teacher, not some spy or secret super hero, right?

"I wasn't always a professor," Daniel murmured, grinning crookedly at Ryan, and he was terrified for a moment that he'd spoken that last thought out loud.... But he was certain that he hadn't. He must just be that easy to read. Or else Professor Thorpe was just that good. Maybe a little bit of both.

Glancing away, because this was too intense and bizarre for his sanity's sake, Ryan met a familiar pair of slanted hazel eyes across the coffee shop. A jolt of energy shot up his spine, snapping his shoulders back, and he only realized when he tugged his hand out from underneath Daniel's that it had still been there.

Chloe smiled at him, and he blinked. Not quite the response he'd been expecting -- for all he knew she was still upset with him -- but that had been a real smile, warm and friendly. And he knew that she'd wanted them to remain friends, but no way was it that easy for either of them so soon after the break up. There was something going on here that he wasn't seeing.

"Excuse me a minute," he heard himself say, as though from a distance, and before Daniel had time to answer he was on his feet and moving toward Chloe.

He wasn't even sure what he was going to say to her, what they had to say to each other, and he was aware that it was pretty damned rude to just get up and leave Professor Thorpe sitting there like that, especially when the man had invited him here and had insisted on paying for his latte. But Chloe was _smiling_ at him, in a way that creased her eyes up into happy slits, and it had _meaning_ , and he had to find out what that meaning _was_.

"Hi, Ryan," she said before he could speak, and she sounded way too cheerful for someone who had dumped his ass for some obscure reason less than a week ago.

"Chloe." That was as far as he got, then he faltered, shifting from one foot to the other, running a hand through his hair. He wasn't nervous, but there was some sort of emotion zinging through him, raising his pulse and hammering his heart against his breastbone, and he was at a loss for what to say next.

Chloe was still smiling at him, and it was a real smile, even though there was something in her eyes that looked a little sad. He just couldn't understand the contradiction, really hoped that she was planning on explaining things to him.

"So I guess now you get it," she was saying, and, okay, not so much, then.

"What?" He knew he sounded irritated, petulant, and Chad would probably rib him about whining again, but Chad wasn't here, and he was tired of Chloe seeming to know ever so much more about himself than he did. "Chloe, what the hell are you talking about?!"

She looked a little taken aback, which ought to make him feel better, except that she was still holding some hidden knowledge just out of his reach. "I... I thought that...." Her eyes flickered over his shoulder, to where Professor Thorpe was sitting.

"Thought _what_ , Chloe?" Ryan pushed, fighting not to raise his voice. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene in the coffee shop, but this really was maddening, and he was losing patience quickly. "What is it that I'm supposed to be getting?! Why the--" He realized that he was speaking too loudly despite his best efforts, and gritted the rest of the question out through clenched teeth. "Why the hell did you dump me for not being honest when I've never once lied to you?!"

Chloe's eyes were round and her expression of surprise might have been amusing at some other time. Not right now, though. Ryan was frustrated, exasperated, and he totally hadn't intended to ask Chloe what she had meant, but it had just popped out. Chad was going to give him a hard time; for following his advice or for not following it sooner, but either way, he hoped that Chloe would answer him now and erase his confusion, put him out of his misery.

Her brow pulled down in a frown, her lower lip plumping. Her gaze was harder now, though her cheeks were a little flushed. "Well, I just.... I thought that since you were out on a date, that you'd figured it out yourself...."

"A _what_?!" Ryan was aware that he'd just squawked, but he was too stunned to be embarrassed by that fact.

"Shh!" Chloe shushed him, flapping her hands frantically. Ryan was more than passingly grateful that she appeared to be here in the coffee shop alone and not with her friends, because this was humiliating enough as it was. "A date!" she hissed, leaning closer. "You know? Where two people go out and have food or drinks together and get to know each other? I have to say, though," she added, her eyes gleaming, as he stood there, jaw flapping, unable to force a single word out, "I never would have thought that you'd bag a _professor_!"

"What?!" Okay, so he had kind of yelled that. "Chloe!" he hissed, knowing his face was bright red and hating both himself and her for it. "We're not on a date! Daniel asked me if I wanted to get some coffee and talk and--"

"Sounds like a date to me," she interrupted, folding her arms and giving him this _look_ , like she wasn't going to let him get away with any bullshit, and _that_ was bullshit, because _she_ was the one who was completely wro....

Completely....

"Oh my God, I'm on a date?!"

It was really humiliating, the way his voice cracked at the top of this question. Even worse, the _pitying_ look that came over Chloe's face.

"Oh, hell no!" he denied, shaking his head fervently. "No way, Chloe!"

"I'm sorry, Ryan." She sounded so sweet, so reasonable, so concerned. Like she had when she'd dumped him. Her hand was warm on his upper arm, but it wasn't comforting at all. "I thought that you knew."

"Son of a--!"

"Ryan...."

"No. No way." He shrugged off her hand, his own fingers buried in his hair. "I have to-- I have to--"

It didn't seem like the wrong thing to do, to run out of the coffee shop without even glancing in Professor Thorpe's direction. Not while he was doing it, anyway.

But later, he thought about how that had looked, how it would have made Daniel feel... well, that was when he felt like a total asshole.


	7. wednesday

**[wednesday]**

The red numbers on his bedside clock just kept ticking over and sleep was elusive. Ryan sighed, rolling from his back to one side, then to the other, and then onto his back again. He tried covering his head with a pillow. He thought about smothering and how that seemed like it might be a good idea at this point.

Finally he gave in to the inevitable and grabbed his cell phone. Chloe was on his speed dial, and it was ringing before his brain had even caught on to what he was going to do.

"Hello?"

"So, you think I'm gay?"

There was a choked sound on the other end of line, and Ryan scowled.

"You better not be laughing at me, Chloe!"

"God, Ryan." She sounded exasperated, a little sleepy. "Do you realize it's after midnight?"

"Were you in bed?" he asked, feeling a little guilty, but not a whole lot, because he knew Chloe's schedule as well as he knew his own, and so he was pretty sure....

"No, I was studying." She sighed. "I was about to go to bed, but--"

"Talk to me," Ryan interrupted desperately. "Please, Chloe? You dumped me over this. You owe it to me!"

"Ryan." There was a long, loaded silence and he held his breath. "All right," she capitulated, sounding resigned. "I'll talk to you."

"Thank you." He'd meant it to sound more sarcastic and less pathetic. Really.

"You know, that wasn't a very nice thing you did, Ryan," she chided him gently. "Running out on the professor like that."

"I know, I know," he ground out, feeling himself blush again, in the dark of his own bedroom, alone except for Chloe on the other end of the phone. "I feel bad, okay? But I didn't think.... I didn't know...."

"I don't think that you're gay, Ryan," Chloe told him, and it should have been a relief. It might have been, if he hadn't already been able to hear the "but" that was coming at the end of that thought.

"So? What is it then?"

"I think...." She huffed lightly, and he could hear papers rustling. Evidently she was through studying and ready to give him her full attention. "I think that you're probably bisexual, even if you don't know it. Don't ask me why I think that."

"Let me guess; feminine intuition?" he cut in, a little more bitingly than he meant to.

"No need to be an asshole," she rejoined, though her tone was still mild. "And, no, it wasn't feminine intuition. It was just.... It was a lot of little things, Ryan, okay? I'm not going to sit here and list them, just so I can see you struggle to change. I just don't think you're.... I think you might be.... Well, far be it from me to label anyone, but I think you're likely to be bisexual with a leaning toward males, and I don't want to see you lock yourself into anything until you've checked out your options."

"But I love you!" Ryan protested, clenching his phone so hard his fingers hurt. "That counts for something, doesn't it? Isn't that everything?! Even if I were.... Even if I _am_ bisexual, it shouldn't matter, since I love you!"

"Oh, Ryan." She sounded so sad, and his stomach twisted. "Baby. I love you too. I do and I always will. But I'm not _in love with_ you. And you're not in love with me."

"Yes I am!"

"No, you're not," she said intractably. "You're really not. Just think about it. Give it time and really think about it. Don't think with your dick, don't think with the part of you that's been trained by society to expect a romantic relationship with any female you have strong feelings for. Just think with your heart. We can still love each other without being in love. Don't lock us into molds that--"

"Then don't you lock me out!" Ryan wanted to be angry that Chloe was trying to make all these decisions for both of them. He wanted to be furious, but all he felt was cold, anxious, and he was so scared that she might be right. "Don't tell me what _I'm_ feeling! You don't have the right!"

"Okay. Okay." She sighed, and he could see her in his mind's eye, the regretful look on her face, and he knew that there wasn't anything that he could say that would change her mind. "I shouldn't have spoken for you, and I won't any more. Even though I think I'm right. But, Ryan, you can't change _my_ mind, either. I still want to be your friend, and I hope you love me enough to give me that. But I can't be with you as a lover anymore. If it helps, you can make it about me, not about you."

Ryan worried at his lower lip until the flesh stung. That... actually helped. Now that he knew why she'd said he wasn't being honest with himself, now that he knew _why_ she'd dumped him.... It still hurt, but it hurt less. And even though he hated hearing her say the words, this clean break that she was giving him, the fact that she was willing to be the bad guy who said definitively that it was over... well, it did help a little.

At least he wasn't confused anymore. Not over why she had dumped him, anyway.

"Ryan? Are you there? Are you mad at me?"

She sounded so small and sad. "Yeah, I'm here. No, I'm not mad." He sighed heavily, staring up at the ceiling. The street lamps outside cut through the blinds, casting straight shadows across the stippled surface. "I think you're wrong, though. I _do_ love you."

"I'm not saying you don't! I'm saying--"

"Look, Chloe. You can give me the 'I love you but not like that, I just want to be friends' speech. But you're not allowed to tell me I'm not in love with you, okay?"

"Fair enough," she said meekly. He knew damned well, though, that even though she was agreeing with him, she still thought she was right.

"Are you going to give me a chance to prove my feelings to you?" he wanted to know. He thought that it was only fair, but it was also fair if she wanted to refuse. "How about if I promise to think about what you said to me?"

"Ryan." And now she was calling him on his words, as though she was sure that he didn't mean them.

"I mean it!" he defended. "Really!"

"Just...." He imagined her closing her eyes, maybe running a hand through her hair, trying to call up patience. "I want to ask you to keep an open mind to... to what I said. Please, Ryan? I'm not asking you to prove me right, I'm not asking you to prove me wrong. I just want you to be honest with yourself, whatever the outcome. I want you to find out who you really are."

"I'm not _gay_!!"

And she giggled, she _giggled_ at him! "Don't be silly! I know you're not gay. I just want you to keep an open mind."

"Don't wanna be so open minded my brains fall out," he mumbled.

"What brains?" she asked, her tone warm with affection and amusement. "Ryan, sweetie, I love you. Give yourself a day, and see what happens, okay?"

"A day to think of myself as gay?"

"Ryan!"

"What?! That's what you're asking me to do, isn't it?!"

Her sigh gusted over the phone so loudly that he could have sworn he felt it in his ear. "Just--"

"Okay, okay. I'll give it a chance. I'll be open minded. I'll think gay thoughts. All day long. Whatever. Just don't tell me I'm lying to myself anymore, all right? And don't try to tell me whether I love you or not."

"All right." She sounded placated, as well she should be. But at least she seemed to believe him now. "Oh, and Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"You really ought to apologize to Professor Thorpe for running out on your date."

He groaned, throwing his free arm over his eyes. "Was that really a date?"

"Yes, it was."

"And did he know it was?"

"Yes, Ryan. I'm pretty sure he did."

"Fuck."

"Are you going to apologize?"

Ryan thought about how humiliating that was going to be. But he also thought about how humiliating it would be if he was out with a girl and she took off running without a word to him as to why, and he groaned again. Dammit, Chloe was right. He was going to have to apologize. Even though he couldn't imagine Daniel being embarrassed.

"Yes."

"That's my boy." She was smiling, he knew.

"Don't patronize me," he grumbled, but he knew that she knew he was whipped.

"You should go to bed, baby."

"I am in bed," he replied, tugging at his sheets, then thrusting his free hand under his pillow, behind his head. "I can't sleep."

"Well, I'm going to have to go soon," Chloe said, stifling a yawn. "Gotta get up at eight tomorrow to get to Public Speaking. I should already have been asleep when you called me."

"I'm glad you weren't," Ryan told her. It was late enough and he was worn thin enough with emotion that he couldn't be less than honest. "Thank you for talking to me, Chloe."

"Thank you for listening," she answered, and he knew that she was smiling, that her eyelids were heavy, and he missed her so much that his heart ached. "You could have been a complete bitch and chewed me out for making the wrong assumptions."

"I could have? Aw, I made the wrong choice! You gotta tell me these things beforehand!"

"Good night, Ryan," she said dryly, but he could hear the amusement in her voice. "And don't forget to apologize!"

"Good night, Chloe."

And Chloe, damn her black black heart, probably had no trouble falling asleep. But Ryan, with too much to think about, too many strange and conflicting thoughts running circles in his head, lay there for hours, trying and failing to completely process everything that they had spoken about. Once he finally did drift off, he slept right through his alarm, turning it off in his sleep like he sometimes did when he was completely exhausted. If it hadn't been for Chad shaking him awake around ten, he would have missed his first class of the day.

"Dude, I totally just saved your sorry ass," his friend crowed as Ryan toasted a bagel and drank a cup of coffee so quickly that he scalded his lips.

Ryan grunted, taking the time to slap some butter on his bagel, even though he knew that was likely to make him a couple of minutes late.

"You okay?" Chad asked, sounding a little concerned.

"Fine," Ryan mumbled, taking a big bite of bagel, then wrapping the rest of it in a paper towel to take with him and swigging down the rest of his coffee. "Just stayed up too late talking to Chloe."

"You talked to Chloe? Did you ask her?" Chad's blue eyes were wide, and Ryan couldn't deal with this so early in the... well, it _was_ still morning, for a couple of hours at least.

"Yes."

"What'd she say?"

"Tell you later," Ryan grunted. "I gotta run."

"Bro! This is so not cool!" Chad called after him as he made a hasty retreat. But he couldn't demand that Ryan stay to talk, considering that he was already going to be late. "I'm gonna hold you to that!"

And Ryan felt even more like running. Because telling his best friend that his ex-girlfriend thought that he was gay... well, it wasn't his idea of the ideal way to spend his Hump Day!

He was, as expected, late to his first class of the day. But only by a couple of minutes, and Professor Lee liked him, so she let him slip in without making a fuss. He'd always done pretty well in Calculus, and she appreciated a student that had a natural gift for the subject. Ryan appreciated having a class that he didn't have to knock himself out studying for.

Of course, the fact that he didn't really have to spend a lot of concentration on the class left him time to remember what he and Chloe had talked about the night before. And he couldn't forget his promise. Even though he _wanted_ to. Oh God, he wanted to!

Glancing about surreptitiously, he cast a fair, impartial eye over his classmates. Well, he hoped it was impartial. He'd never considered that he might find males attractive, so he'd never viewed them as sexual beings before; except as rivals for the attention of girls, of course.

All right, so there had been a few guys that he'd felt a moment's passing admiration for in the past, now that he was dwelling on the subject. But he'd always thought it was just aesthetic appreciation. Really. Truly.

So far...nothing. But then, Calculus wasn't exactly a babe fest, where males _or_ females were concerned. Ryan knew without conceit that he was the best looking person in the classroom. Sure, none of the guys here did it for him, but neither did any of the girls either.

Ryan found his thoughts running back in time to Professor Thorpe. Now _he_ was attractive. Chiseled jaw, sensual mouth, piercing ice blue eyes with those little crinkles at the corners, and ever since he'd shaved off his beard, ever since Ryan had noticed how pumped he was when he'd seen him at the gym--

"Oh my God!"

Professor Lee stopped mid-sentence at his horrified yelp, her dark eyes wide. The entire class was staring at him. Ryan sank down into his seat, his face flaming; more because of the thoughts he'd found himself thinking than the fact that he'd yelled aloud in the middle of class.

"Well, I'm pleased that you're so excited over indefinite integrals, Ryan, but I hardly think they rate such a tumultuous response," Professor Lee said mildly, giving him a quizzical look but seeming willing to do what she could to help him save face.

"Yeah, uh, sorry," he managed, wishing that there was some way he could just melt away under his desk. He wasn't gay, he wasn't gay, and oh, holy fuck, he _did not have the hots for his European History professor!!_

Professor Lee took up her lesson again, but damned if Ryan heard a word of it. This seemed to be becoming a trend with him, and not one he was okay with, but, dude, he'd caught himself having pervy thoughts for Professor Thorpe! At this point he was thinking that eleven o'clock was _not_ too early get blasted, falling-on-his-face drunk.

But then again, the way his luck had been going, he'd probably wind up hitting on Professor Thorpe if he got wasted. He contemplated waking up hung-over in a strange bed with a sore ass and shuddered. And then he died a little inside, because he wasn't completely certain that it was disgust that had caused him to shudder.

The rest of class was something of a blur. He was pretty sure he gave Professor Lee a garbled apology on his way out, but his mind was consumed with the _real_ apology he was going to have to give to Professor Thorpe, and how was he going to do that without making a fool out of himself?!

Well, no one was going to be able to call Ryan Ballard a coward. He wasn't going to put it off. He decided to beard the lion in his den. So to speak. And what did that saying mean, anyway?

He had to skip his Wednesday Spanish class, but he wouldn't have been able to pay attention anyway, and this way he managed to cross paths with Professor Thorpe as he exited the lecture hall at noon.

"Ryan." Professor Thorpe raised one brow, his mouth quirking in that half-smile that he was growing very familiar with. It was incredibly charming, and Ryan could have kicked himself; though whether it was for noticing that or for the fact that it _worked_ on him, he wasn't sure. "How are you doing today?"

Ryan flushed deeply, could feel the heat running up to the tips of his ears, down his neck below the collar of his shirt. "I-- I wanted to--" He stumbled over his words as a female student leaving the hall bumped into him. He needed to apologize, no matter how embarrassing it was, but he just couldn't do it where anyone could hear him. "Can we...?"

"Let's go to my office," the professor offered smoothly, holding out a hand in that direction and Ryan nodded, relieved. There was a brush of fingertips briefly at the small of his back as Professor Thorpe moved to follow him and he swallowed tightly. He was supposed to be thinking gay thoughts today, had promised Chloe he would, but this was just a little too much for him. He already felt as though he was one step away from his senses reeling, and they hadn't even started their conversation yet.

Professor Thorpe's office was exactly what Ryan would have expected, if he had stopped to consider it. The wood paneling and bookshelves were part of the college decor, but he had a feeling the huge walnut desk and the leather lined office chair behind it were all Daniel's. He eyed the broad surface of the desk, found himself thinking how easy it would be to shove aside the one stack of paperwork, the mug full of pens, and the date book atop it. Then he turned a brilliant shade of red, and hung his head, flopping into the chair before the desk. He'd never thought of a desk as being sexy, had never considered an office as a place for an assignation before.... But then, he'd never had a _teacher kink_ before, as he evidently had now!

Instead of seating himself behind the desk, Professor Thorpe perched on its edge. Ryan found his eyes locking on those powerful thighs again, and he scooted his chair back a little before he realized that this maybe hadn't been the most polite move.

"Uh, I wanted to say that I'm sorry!" he blurted, before Professor Thorpe could speak first. "I shouldn't have run out on you like that, and it was rude, and I'm sorry!"

Professor Thorpe smiled, his eyes crinkling in that fascinating way. His hands were laced casually on his thigh, and his posture was easy and relaxed, but those ice-blue eyes were fixed intently on Ryan's face.

"I hope you're not mad at me," Ryan ventured, unable or unwilling to let the silence extend. He wanted to get to his feet, to pace around the office, but that would be admitting more of his anxiety than he was comfortable exposing.

"I'm not angry," Professor Thorpe assured him, his voice even and soothing. Ryan gulped. He believed the man, but why didn't that make him feel better? "Am I right in assuming that the lovely young lady you spoke to before leaving is the reason you've been mooning about my classroom lately?"

"Only for the last couple classes," Ryan confessed before he could censor himself. He flushed again, but he'd already said too much and he felt like he owed Daniel the truth. "It really was all the trouble I was in that distracted me, before that. And then it was kind of because I was lost and it seemed too hard to catch up. Chloe only dumped me last Thursday." He paused and bit his lip, then decided to just go for it. "And I wasn't... I didn't even think of her once during class on Monday."

Professor Thorpe looked speculative, but not disbelieving. Ryan silently willed him not to ask what he _had_ been thinking of. _Please don't, please, please...._

"So you didn't know that the trip to the coffee shop yesterday was a date," the professor said softly, almost gently, and Ryan almost thought that the other question would have been preferable.

"N-no," he admitted, feeling as though his face was going supernova. God, could this get any more embarrassing?! "Wait-- Did--?!"

Professor Thorpe chuckled, his teeth flashing sharp and white. "The young lady in question came to speak to me after you left so abruptly, yes."

"That bitch!" Ryan jerked out, and for a moment he meant it. Chloe was his friend and just last night he'd been vowing to her that he loved her, but that was just-- that was-- "I can't believe her!"

"Well." Professor Thorpe tilted his head, examining Ryan with a detached sort of interest that was a little disconcerting. "In her defense, she felt it was largely her fault that you ran out like that."

Ryan fell back into his chair, righteous indignation over being talked about behind his back fading away. "Sorry," he repeated miserably. "I was just.... It was so...."

"Unexpected?" Professor Thorpe chuckled again, and though he didn't shift where he sat, though he seemed completely relaxed, there was something so intent, so predatory about his gaze where it was fixed on Ryan's face that he was hard put not to squirm where he sat. "Would you like to give it another try?"

Ryan blinked, for a moment unable to process the words -- or, rather, the meaning behind them. "Another...?"

"Dinner this time, perhaps?"

"Dinner?" Ryan squeaked. There was no mistaking the intent this time. There was only one word for this, and that word was "date". He was being asked out on a date. And if he said yes, he'd be going with full knowledge of that fact. No prevaricating.

"I-- Okay," he agreed, his mouth opening before he realized. "Dinner. That sounds good...."

Professor Thorpe grinned, and the fact that the expression was more amused and sympathetic than Ryan would have liked wasn't as much as a deterrent as he would have expected. "Tomorrow night, then? Six o'clock at The Golden Dragon?"

Ryan nodded. He couldn't think of anything to say, and his mouth was completely dry at any rate. He swallowed tightly. This hadn't been at all what he had expected when he had set out to apologize... and yet he didn't regret his response. Despite the powerful sensation of unreality that was engulfing him, there was a strange flutter of excitement in his stomach. He was actually going to do this.

He wasn't even quite sure how he got out of Professor Thorpe's office. There were more pleasantries exchanged, he was sure, and he didn't think he said anything that would get him into further trouble. The next thing he knew, really, was he was standing outside the door, taking a deep breath, and avoiding a curious glance from Professor Fields, who was walking past on the way to his own office.

Well. Professor Thorpe -- Daniel, he guessed he was going to have to get used to calling the man -- had accepted his apology. Ryan had certainly gotten more than he'd gone into the conversation expecting, and he was a little confused as to how that had happened. But it _had_ happened, and he'd consented with full understanding. He wasn't going out with Daniel to make up for running out on him. He was doing it because he wanted to; it was as simple and as complex as that.

 _How's that for thinking gay?_ he felt like saying to Chloe. Except he didn't think he was talking to her. He was angry at her, for pushing him into this and for talking to Professor Thorpe behind his back. Well, maybe not angry, but he was definitely upset. Disconcerted. In fact, now that he was out of Daniel's office and back into the "real world", he definitely felt as though a little freak-out was overdue. He had agreed to go out to dinner with Professor Thorpe, with Daniel, with a _man_. With the full knowledge that it was a date. With a _MAN_.

God, he hoped he wasn't going to be expected to put out!

"Oh fuck," he whispered. "I'm... I'm dating a professor!"


	8. thursday

**[thursday]**

"No! No, no, no!"

Ryan growled, throwing his best navy button-up shirt on the bed. He shot a panicked look at the clock, but he still had almost an hour. It would only take him twenty minutes to get to The Golden Dragon, so he was doing okay, really.

....Except for the part where he was _going out on a date with his very masculine, very definitely MALE European History professor_ , of course!

He'd almost rather be running for his life from crooked cops again. Because this... this was truly terrifying.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck...."

And now he was rethinking the jeans he had already decided on. They were new, no holes or worn spots, and The Golden Dragon wasn't a hugely classy place, and he'd thought that the jeans would be all right with a new shirt, but now he was thinking that maybe slacks would be better. Only he didn't like wearing slacks. And he was already going to be uncomfortable, considering that he was going to be out on a DATE, with a GUY.

"Oh, fuck me!"

He slumped down at the foot of his bed, head in his hands. His heart was pounding against his breastbone and there was no way he was going to be able to do this, just no way, there was no way....

Why hadn't Chloe called him yet?! After her whole, _"I want you to spend a day thinking gay thoughts"_ deal, shouldn't she have checked up on him? He'd been expecting her to call him all night, all morning, all afternoon.... And now here it was, less than an hour until his DATE with a MAN, and she wasn't pushing him, making sure that he got out the door. It wasn't fair!

"I can't do this," Ryan mumbled into his hands, feeling like a total bastard, a complete coward, and there was no way Daniel could forgive him if he stood him up this time, but there was just _no way_ that Ryan could do this; get dressed up and walk into that restaurant and sit there making small talk, knowing the whole time that it was a date, and what about the "good-night" kiss -- oh, God, _WHAT ABOUT THE GOOD-NIGHT KISS?!?!_

"Dude!" Chad was standing in the doorway to Ryan's room, and he must really have been out of it not to hear his friend come in. "What the hell are you doing?!"

In a fit of panic and what he now considered to be temporary insanity, and since Chloe hadn't called him, Ryan had told Chad everything the evening before. His friend had gone very quiet, his blue eyes wide, and Ryan had slammed into his bedroom before Chad could do more than open his mouth to respond, because he hadn't wanted to hear what he'd had to say. He'd been avoiding Chad ever since, and he knew it was weak of him, but he didn't want to see the disappointment and disgust in his best friend's gaze.

"You're going to be late!" Chad continued, shaking his head at Ryan, his hands on his hips. "Get up!"

Ryan stared, speechless, watching as Chad went to his closet and chose a charcoal button-up that Ryan hadn't even been aware of owning. "Put this on. And wear some cologne, it smells like it's been in a closet," Chad instructed, holding out the article of clothing in question. "And don't forget to brush your hair! And your teeth!"

Ryan got to his feet, the panic receding. He was a little numb with shock now, but numb was preferable to panic, and he took no small amount of comfort in the way Chad had stepped in and taken control of the situation. "Are you...? So, you're okay with...?"

Chad glared at him, let out a gusty sigh of exasperation. "Dude, I should totally kick your ass for avoiding me all day! We don't have time to talk about it now; you're going to be late if you don't hurry. But, yeah, I'm okay with it. Weirded out, but okay."

Ryan grasped the shirt and stared at his friend.

"And it wouldn't hurt anything if you put on a little more deodorant," Chad threw out, grasping Ryan's shoulders and steering him toward the bathroom. "And use some mouthwash."

It wasn't so hard, after all, to give in and get dressed. Ryan did a quick 'pit check then cursed Chad under his breath. Despite his nerves he was still fine after his shower. And he'd already carefully styled his hair; Chad was just giving him shit, he hoped. He _did_ brush his teeth, though, as thoroughly as he could when he was in a hurry. He was going to be late, but at least he would be showing up. Thanks to Chad.

Dashing out into the living room, Ryan grabbed his jacket and made sure that his wallet and keys were in the pockets before shrugging it on. He didn't need it now, but it would get cooler as the evening progressed, and he didn't know where he was going to end up.

Chad, leaning against the back of the sofa with his arms folded, tilted his head to the side, surveying Ryan. "Well, you'll do," he decided, though there was a definite quirk to his wide mouth. "Do you want me to give you a ride so that this professor of yours can drive you home?"

"Oh, you fucker!"

"What?" Chad, the bastard, was _laughing_. "I'm asking as a friend!"

Ryan huffed, then paused, his hand on the doorknob. "Thank you, Chad," he said seriously, and he meant it for so many things. For his acceptance, for not asking awkward questions, for getting Ryan moving and out the door, and for just being Chad; obnoxious and crude but reliable.

Chad smirked and shrugged. "No problem. But we're going to talk about this tomorrow. You're gonna tell me everything." He held one hand up, palm forward. "No details, though!"

Ryan snarled. "Fuck you!" he exclaimed again, and this time he meant it as much as he didn't mean it.

"Just remember, don't put out on the first date!"

Chad's amused laughter followed Ryan as he slammed the door behind him. There _was_ such a thing as being too accepting, after all. It would serve Chad right if Ryan shared details....

But the thought of "details" sent a shiver up his spine and he almost turned his Bronco in the opposite direction of The Golden Dragon. Switching his brain off, he concentrated on his driving to the exclusion of all else, and arrived at the restaurant at six-ten. It took him another eight minutes to find a parking spot, but as far as running late went, he wasn't doing too badly. Not when he almost hadn't shown up at all.

The Golden Dragon was a busy place, even on a Thursday night, and so Ryan wasn't surprised that even though he walked in twenty minutes late, Professor Thorpe -- okay, he was really going to have to start thinking of him as Daniel since they were evidently dating now -- was still waiting in the seating area.

Ryan froze for a moment, watching Prof-- Watching Daniel chatting with the Hostess. She was a pretty young woman, with dark hair and eyes, wearing really too much makeup but on her it looked good, and her crisp white shirt was just thin enough that when she turned the right way he could vaguely see she was wearing a lacy white bra underneath it. She looked intelligent, witty, and she was definitely attractive... so why was it that he could hardly take his eyes off of Daniel?

Well, considering that they were embarking on a date tonight, that was probably a good thing, even though it freaked him out. But the whole date thing was leaving him on the verge of having a _complete_ freak-out, so....

Daniel was wearing a white button-up under a pale grey jacket, with blue jeans that were several shades more pale than Ryan's. He wondered for half a moment whether Chad was psychic, because the shirt he was wearing tonight couldn't have matched better if he and Daniel had gotten dressed together, but dismissed the thought after half a moment as ridiculous. If Chad were psychic, he'd be getting laid a lot more often.

Ryan bit back a snicker at this passing notion, all too aware that he was close to hysterics -- well, not really _close_ , but certainly closer than he was normally -- and took a step further into the restaurant. Because by this point there was no going back, only forward, even though Daniel still hadn't seen him.

And then even that little buffer vanished in a heartbeat as those bright blue eyes turned his way, meeting his across the area. Daniel grinned and Ryan smiled back before he could help it, half raising a hand before letting it fall again.

Daniel waved him over as the Hostess collected a couple of menus with a smile on her face. Ryan thought it was passingly odd that she wasn't Asian, in a Chinese restaurant, but then, it wasn't as though the food was actually authentic. Hell, Ryan would have been willing to bet that the chief language spoken in the kitchen was _not_ Chinese... or even English.

Still, he knew from eating here before that the food, authentic Chinese or not, was good. And the decor -- gold and crimson, mostly -- was classy. All in all, he had to admit that this was a good place to come for a first date.

He flushed slightly as he and Daniel moved to follow the Hostess, keeping pace except where the aisle narrowed too much, in which case Daniel guided Ryan to step ahead of him with a hand that hovered just over the small of his back, brushing his jacket but not quite touching. He couldn't decide if it made him feel more like a girl or a child, to be ushered like that. This was all so weird and surreal.

He really hoped that he would be getting past this whole _blushing_ thing. The lighting in The Golden Dragon wasn't dim enough to hide it, and it was just so humiliating. Bad enough Daniel _had_ to know that he was embarrassed, but for it to be written across his face clearly enough for everyone around them to see....

He wondered, as the Hostess seated them with what he was convinced was a _meaning_ smile and a few polite words, whether everyone in the restaurant could tell that he and Daniel were on a date. Not that it would probably matter to anyone in the place. And not that seeing two guys out for dinner together was an oddity in Los Angeles. But it had never been Ryan who had been one of those guys before.... He wasn't used to it.

"If it helps any," Daniel was saying smoothly, leaning across the table after they had seated themselves, Ryan struggling out of his jacket first, "You can just pretend that we're here to discuss your problems in class. Or even your relationship with... Chloe, her name was, right?"

Ryan shook his head. "No!" He was no coward. If he was on a date, he was _on a date_ , even if it was with a guy. And it would be rude to Daniel to pretend anything else, when they'd made this appointment with the full knowledge that it _was_ a date. He took a deep breath and tried to relax into his chair. "No, thank you, but no. I'm fine."

Daniel nodded and was obviously trying not to look skeptical. Ryan was getting used to seeing the mocking amusement in those eyes, and he tried not to take it personally. Daniel clearly had a somewhat cynical world view; which Ryan could completely understand, even though he didn't exactly share it.

"Besides," he continued, looking to settle things between them. "It would be weird to talk about class here, would remind me too much that you're my professor. And there isn't any relationship between Chloe and I. Not anymore. Well, I mean, we're still friends, but that's it."

And the strangest thing wasn't that he was saying this to a man that he was out on a date with, to assure said man that his attention would be focused solely on him. No, the strangest thing was that he had just spoken those words and had meant them and they hadn't hurt. Two nights ago, on the phone with Chloe, vowing his love, he would never have expected this.

But that was in the past and he was here and now. And when he paused for just a moment to give this whole situation the proper consideration, instead of just reacting and responding instinctively.... It wasn't just that he thought Daniel was hot. He _was_ , especially without the beard, but that wasn't the only reason Ryan was here.

It was in part because of the way Daniel's eyes were so bright and clear, and when they focused on Ryan they only saw him. He wasn't used to such intensity. The ice blue was sharp and cutting, and sometimes that gaze seemed dangerous to Ryan, but he never felt unsafe.

And when Daniel smiled, he smiled with his whole face. The flesh crinkled at the corners of those eyes, deep dimples lined his cheeks. There was no pretense, no artifice. He didn't expose everything, but he didn't hide anything, either.

Ryan was also curious. Maybe it had just been a line, but he hadn't thought so, when Daniel had said that he knew how it felt to be shot at. Or, well, he had at least implied that he'd had the same experience. And that enigmatic line, "I wasn't always a professor." It nagged at him a little. Ryan had run out on their date before Daniel could elaborate -- if he had intended to elaborate -- but he hadn't forgotten those words, or how seriously they had been delivered. Daniel had meant them, and Ryan was _fairly_ certain that he hadn't been just bullshitting him.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Daniel replied calmly, giving Ryan that engaging grin that he couldn't help returning, though he had to duck his head a little to try to hide the flush that flared in his cheeks. He was getting better, he thought, but there was something so... so _wicked_ in that grin, that he couldn't help but blush. He wondered if he'd ever get used to it.

"I was in love with her," Ryan said honestly, finding that he wanted to tell Daniel everything. "I mean, I thought I was. I really did. Just two nights ago I was telling her that. But...."

"But?" Daniel quirked a brow, his expression peaceful, expectant. Ryan wished he had half the confidence that Daniel did, in any facet of his life. Maybe someday he would.

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, their waiter -- who _was_ Asian -- appeared, bringing ice water, pouring out tea, and generously giving them "a few more minutes" with the menus they hadn't even cracked open yet.

Ryan chewed on his lower lip, thinking hard. He wanted to tell the truth, but he didn't want to sound like a flake who could fall out of love in twenty-four hours. Nor did he want to sound too much like he was hitting on Daniel. He wasn't ready for _that_ much honest yet.

"Maybe I was only in love because I thought I was supposed to be," he said slowly, opening his menu and peering at the dishes but not really reading it. He was going to order the beef-broccoli, anyway. He always did, no matter what Chinese restaurant he was at; it saved him having to experiment. He sensed enough "experimenting" ahead of him in his future, and flushed dully at the thought.

"Because she was a pretty girl that you had strong feelings for, and our culture only has one word for that?"

Ryan nodded. "Exactly!" It didn't make him feel really guilty to turn around and use the reasoning Chloe had given him, presenting it as his own, because Daniel couldn't know Chloe had said it first. It did make him feel a little guilty to be making such an extreme reversal; putting forth a theory he had rejected without a second thought just two nights ago. But not enough to stop him from doing so.

"In most languages," Daniel said calmly, raising his tea cup and sipping the hot brew, "There are different words for different sorts of love. Overall, English has more variety and flexibility than most other languages, but when it comes to that one little four-letter word we're a remarkably unimaginative lot."

Ryan nodded. He'd briefly dated a girl who was madly into Japanese animation -- "anime", she'd insisted he call it -- and she'd once spent their entire post-coital cuddling period lecturing him on the difference between "dai suki" and "aishiteru". He'd thought that was weird, but she'd given great blowjobs, so he hadn't complained.

"Yeah, I still love her," Ryan agreed. "But I'm not in love with her." He grinned sheepishly, turning his tea cup around in its own ring of condensation, avoiding meeting Daniel's eyes. "She tried to convince me of that two nights ago and I argued so hard." He snorted, almost able to laugh about it, but not quite. "I should've known she was right. She's always right."

Daniel reached over the table top, fingertips brushing the back of Ryan's hand for only an instant before retreating. "Don't over-think it, Ryan," he said smoothly. He wasn't too gentle, was calm and assertive at once. It was an order without feeling like an order, and something at the bottom of Ryan's belly flipped at the sound. Not in an unpleasant way, and he was glad he was sitting down, with the tablecloth draped over his lap. Not that he was getting turned on!

_Oh, God...._

"Yeah." He shrugged, trying for nonchalant. "Anyway..." his voice took on a slightly testy tone, even though he tried not to let it out. "It's not like I'd go out with you -- with _anyone_ \-- if Chloe and I were still together! Even if she'd dumped me but I thought I was still in love with her... no way would I be here!"

"Of course you wouldn't."

And it didn't even sound as though Daniel was humoring him; he was smiling and nodding like he meant it.

Ryan wasn't sure what to say to that, and fortunately for him their waiter returned, providing an effective distraction. Ryan ordered, unsurprised when Daniel followed suit with aplomb, even though he didn't think he'd seen the other man so much as glance at his menu.

"So, I suppose that makes me your rebound date," Daniel said once they were alone again, carefully keeping his voice low enough that no one but Ryan could hear him. "As well as your first date with a male. And I'm your professor.... An older man, that goes without saying. Are there any cliches that I've missed?"

Ryan couldn't help it; he laughed aloud. Daniel eyes were gleaming, his teeth exposed in a wicked slash of a smile, inviting Ryan to share his humor with the entire situation.

"This is kind of messed up, isn't it?" Ryan asked when he'd caught his breath. "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you or something."

Daniel shook his head, still grinning. "Not really. If anything, you could say that _I'm_ taking advantage of _you_ ; your confusion and uncertainty. But since we're both adults and we both know the score, how about we agree not to take this for more than it is."

"What is it?" Ryan asked, holding his breath, trying not to look as nervous as he suddenly felt. There were butterflies in his stomach and he hadn't had that feeling since Junior High.

Daniel's eyes were locked on his face for a long, steady moment, his expression solemn. "We're having dinner together," he finally stated, his voice level.

Ryan waited for a long moment, then cocked his head. "That's it?" he asked, feeling inexplicably disappointed.

"That's what it is right now," Daniel qualified, and that impish grin was sneaking through, lighting his ice blue eyes and curving his lips. "Where the evening takes us... well, let's find out together. Okay?"

Ryan drew in a deep breath and then let it out in a heavy gust. That was something that he could live with. "Yeah. I like... I like the sound of that," he agreed. It made him nervous as hell, and he couldn't help dwelling over the whole "goodnight kiss" thing, not even sure if he was hoping it _would_ happen or _wouldn't_....

Well, like Daniel had said, he should set that aside. Not dwell on the past, not fret over the future. He was just going to enjoy sitting here with Daniel. And he was certain that he would enjoy the evening. They hadn't shared a conversation yet that didn't stimulate him, didn't make him laugh, at least a little. And from the dancing of Daniel's pale blue eyes, he was anticipating the same tonight.

"So what do we talk about?" he asked, settling back, finally feeling comfortable and not as though he was seconds away from squirming in his seat. This was still a date, but the word had retreated, wasn't blinking in neon at the forefront of his consciousness, anymore. This was simply an opportunity to get to know someone he was interested in better. Weird that the person he was interested in was a _guy_.... But weirder things had happened. Answering his cell phone and finding a kidnapped schoolteacher begging for his help on the other end was definitely up there where weirdness was concerned.

"Well," Daniel folded his hands before him on the table top, grinning across at Ryan, "I'd like to hear what you think you might like to do in the future, what career you might pursue."

Ryan blinked, thrown off a little. But it was certainly better than talking about the recent reconstruction of his sexual orientation. He was sort of flying by the seat of his pants where that was concerned, not giving himself time to stop and think about it. Otherwise he might find himself completely overwhelmed.

"You couldn't pick anything easy?" he asked, well aware that he was too close to whining. "Dude, all I know is that I _don't_ want to be a cop! Or a teacher. Uh, no offense."

Daniel grinned, his eyes crinkling. Ryan decided right then that he was going to have to do his best to get Daniel to smile as often as he could, because it just looked so... well, "charming" was the first word that sprang to his mind, and the one that lingered when he tried to come up with something else. He'd feel more embarrassed by that if Daniel hadn't been so very British.

"None taken. And it _is_ important to know what you don't want to do."

"I was thinking of Jessica Martin when I said 'teacher', not you," Ryan confessed. He grinned sheepishly. "And it's not even anything concrete I'm basing my decision on; just a gut feeling."

Daniel nodded. "You should always trust your gut," he said earnestly. "That's what helped you to save the Martins and got you through the whole thing intact."

Ryan grimaced. "I guess. The whole thing still seems kind of like a bad dream or something. It's more like something I saw than something I did, most times. And the more I talk about it, the less real it feels. Like, all the times I told the story to the police, in Court, at keggers... every time I told it, it made my memories less vivid."

"That sounds like a little self-administered therapy," Daniel said, and his smile was softer, more gentle. "It might not have been deliberate, but it's probably the best thing you could have done."

Ryan shrugged uncomfortably. "I still dream in technicolor, though."

Daniel chuckled. The waiter showed up with their food, curtailing conversation for a minute or two. Once he'd departed, promising to bring a couple sets of chopsticks and some more tea, Ryan decided that beef-broccoli had been a decent choice but Daniel's crispy szechuan duck looked better.

"Would you be willing to tell _me_ the tale?" Daniel asked as they dished food and white rice onto their individual plates. "I've heard the rumors, I've read what was published in the papers, but I'm curious about the details. Of course, I can understand if you don't want to talk about it tonight...."

"No, it's cool," Ryan said. "It would be kinda weird not to. I mean, here I've got this amazing real life adventure; how could I pass up the chance to dominate the conversation for half an hour?"

Daniel grinned widely, accepted the chopsticks the waiter brought back with an easy smile and a word of thanks.

Ryan found it was a simple matter to eat and talk at once; though not with his mouth full. He wasn't gauche, just because it was a guy and not a chick he was on a date with. Rules of etiquette still applied.

Daniel didn't interrupt, asked clarifying questions when necessary, and exhibited more knowledge of police procedure than Ryan was used to getting when people listened to his tale. It didn't take him long to lay everything out, and Daniel even pulled a few details out of him that he had forgotten.

The next two hours passed quickly, painlessly, pleasantly even. Once Ryan was done with his tale they got back to the subject of what he wanted to do with his life, for a while. Then they discussed local crimes, recent controversies at the college, the big game, and they even dwelt on the weather for a few minutes. Ryan would never have thought previously that anyone could make talking about the weather interesting, but he'd yet to find a subject that Daniel couldn't wring some amusement out of.

Before he quite realized, all the food was gone, their waiter had brought the check and their fortune cookies, and Daniel had grabbed everything but one of the cookies.

"I should pay because I'm the one who ran out on our first date," Ryan protested, snapping his cookie open, then freezing, because the word "date" had just flowed off of his lips so easily.

"Perhaps," Daniel purred, smirking at him as he settled a credit card between the folds of leather and handing it over to their waiter. "But I'm the one who issued the invitation, both times."

"Well.... All right," Ryan allowed, wondering whether he should have suggested going Dutch... but it was too late now, and Daniel probably would have been insulted by that. "Thank you."

"If it makes you feel any better," Daniel said smoothly, breaking his own fortune cookie in half, "You can treat me to a coffee tomorrow, after class."

"Okay." Ryan jumped on that. "It's a date!" And he only blushed a little at this declaration. He might get used to this yet....

He unfolded his fortune, read it, then burst into uncontrolled laughter.

" _Don't be afraid to open yourself to new experiences,_ ", he read, grinning across the table at Daniel.

Daniel grinned back, white teeth flashing, and the hooded look he gave Ryan was so steamy that he was very glad he hadn't added the _"in bed"_ that Chad always insisted they tack on to their fortunes.

"What does yours say?" he asked, stuffing half the cookie into his mouth, reaching for a distraction.

"Hm." Daniel examined the thin strip of paper, then folded it in half and tucked it into his inside jacket pocket. "I'm afraid that will have to remain a mystery," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Ryan's mouth dropped open with the unfairness of it all, but their waiter came back at the moment with the receipt. Daniel signed it in a controlled but artistic scrawl that was almost-but-not-quite legible, then met Ryan's gaze across the way. "Ready?"

 _Ready for what?_ Ryan almost asked, but he thought better of it. "I, uh, caught a ride here," he fibbed shamelessly, not ready for the evening to be over yet. "Do you think you could take me home?"

Daniel met his gaze steadily, that familiar crook to one corner of his mouth. Ryan was sure that he could read the lie all over his face, in his dull flush, but he met those eyes boldly and after a moment Daniel's expression creased in that charming smile.

"Not a problem. Shall we?"

The heat in his cheeks didn't abate as Ryan rose and preceded Daniel out of the restaurant, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He was relieved to find that he'd parked on the opposite side of the lot from Daniel's car; after all, there was no one else on campus who drove a green Bronco that looked as though it had been in a high speed chase. Bad enough _he_ knew he'd lied about needing a ride. He'd just die if Daniel ever found out.

Damn Chad, anyway, for being right!

"Holy shit, is that yours?!" Ryan yelped as Daniel pointed his keyring and depressed the button, causing an alarm system to beep and a pair of headlights to flicker to life. "How does a college professor afford a Jaguar?!"

Daniel clapped a hand to Ryan's upper back, leaving a warm palm resting on his shoulderblade longer than was strictly necessary. "I told you, didn't I? I wasn't always a professor."

Ryan might have said something to that, but he couldn't for the life of him think of anything. Besides, the lingering weight of Daniel's hand was doing strange, fluttery things to the bottom of his stomach.

Sliding into the sleek silver Jaguar was a little like sliding into bed beside Chloe, only with the scent of leather and cologne surrounding him, and it was Daniel who was next to him, powerful and in control as he started the vehicle with a twist of his wrist.

"You'll have to direct me," Daniel told him as he paused at the exit to the parking lot, the motor purring smoothly. His hands rested easily on the steering wheel, and Ryan had to drag his eyes away from them. He wasn't sure why, exactly. Just that....

"Ryan?"

"Uh, sorry! Left here." He gestured vaguely. "It's about twenty minutes.... I hope it's not too far out of the way." He really wished that he had enough courage to suggest a movie or something, but what fun would that be? Sure, he'd be spending more time with Daniel, but it would be in the dark, and they wouldn't be able to talk. Well, at least he had the promise of coffee tomorrow.

"Don't worry about it," Daniel assured him, driving as Ryan directed. The car moved like a dream and they had twenty more minutes, at least, to converse. Ryan made a mental note that he'd have to get a ride from Chad in the morning, back to The Golden Dragon to pick up his Bronco.

It was totally worth it though. It was even worth the ribbing he was sure he'd get from his friend. He wasn't quite sure how or why it was worth it; just that he wasn't ready for this evening to end yet. Getting a ride home might be a ruse, but it was one he couldn't bring himself to regret.

"Here we are," he said, conversation coming to a stop as Daniel pulled the Jaguar up outside the house. "I'm renting this with three other guys," he informed him, reluctant to get out of the car now that they were here, but not seeing that he had much choice.

He hadn't really expected Daniel to walk him to the door, but he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised by this show of gallantry, even though he wasn't really a girl. Chad had forgotten to leave the porch light on -- or, knowing him, might very well have left it off on purpose -- and so the shadows largely hid them from view as they stood before the front door.

"I-- Thank... thank you. For dinner, and for the ride...." Ryan was aware that he was babbling a little, but he wasn't used to being the chick on a date; the one who had been treated to a meal and been driven home and who had to decide whether to put out or not. "I had a really good time," he meant that, "And I really appreciate you listening to my story and trying to help me decide what to do with my life, and--"

"Ryan." Suddenly there were warm fingertips at the corner of his jaw, the gentle touch effectively stilling his errant tongue, delicate pressure compelling him to tip his head back. "Hush."

Daniel ducked his head slightly, bending his face toward Ryan's, and Ryan instinctively rose to meet the coming kiss. It felt like surrender and anticipation all at once, and he was there before he even realized.

It was strange and new, having to raise his chin to meet his partner, large hands pressed heavy and powerful to his lower back, a flat chest under his own palms. He was bowed slightly backward, their bodies slotted together perfectly to just above the hips. Ryan had never been in this sort of position before, and he kind of liked it.

Daniel tasted of vanilla -- from the fortune cookie, Ryan thought abstractly -- and green tea, and his lips were firm and warm, just moist enough that they slid over Ryan's smoothly. Their mouths fitted together, caressed, clung, and then a hot-wet tongue traced a slick line over the curve of Ryan's lower lip.

He gasped, jerking back before he realized, and Daniel gazed down at him, the curve of his smirk a bit more plush, more pink than normal, his eyes darker where they sparkled beneath heavy lids.

"I...." Ryan licked his lips nervously, then flushed heatedly as he realized what he'd just done. But all he could concentrate on was the hand that had slipped down his lower back almost to the upper curve of his rear and the fact that he'd just been kissed by a guy for the first time. And he thought he wanted Daniel to kiss him again, or he wanted to kiss Daniel, but he also thought that he might be about due for a complete and well-deserved breakdown....

"I hope that wasn't too forward of me," Daniel apologized smoothly, and though it sounded a little as though he was mocking Ryan -- like it always did -- his eyes were warm with real concern, and his smile had softened to something less smarmy.

"No," Ryan hurried to assure him, though he did take a quick step back, breaking the hold Daniel's arms had on him and drawing a deep breath. If he was going to speak coherently, if he wasn't going to say or do anything he was going to regret as soon as the door divided them, he had to put a little distance between them. Now. "No, it's not-- That was--" He straightened, throwing back his shoulders, meeting Daniel's eyes levelly, and grinning as widely as he was able when his lips were still tingling. "After all, what kind of guy doesn't give up at least one kiss on the second date?"

Daniel stared at him for a long moment, then burst into laughter. "Good night, Ryan," he said affectionately, swooping in for one quick peck on the lips before he retreated to the edge of the porch. "I'm glad you had a good time tonight, and I look forward to having coffee with you tomorrow."

"Yeah, me too," Ryan answered inanely, raising a hand. He waved it briskly then lowered it when he noticed that it was trembling, just a little, and watched as Daniel strode back to his car and slid inside.

It wasn't until the silver Jaguar had rumbled its way out of sight that he sighed and turned to unlock the front door. His thoughts and emotions were a tangle and he was going to have some serious sorting out to do.

"So, how'd it go, Loverboy?"

Ryan groaned. Leave it to Chad to break the mood. He glared at his friend, who was beaming at him from the sofa, his blue eyes gleaming "I'll tell you tomorrow!"

"Aw, man, that's not fair!"

But fair had nothing to do with it, and Ryan had a lot to think about. Ignoring Chad's whine, he made his way into his bedroom, closing the door and leaning back against the wood, fingertips tracing over the swell of his lips.

He had a _lot_ to think about.


	9. friday

**[friday]**

"I'm not gay."

Chad rolled his eyes expressively. "Yeah, I know."

They'd both gotten up early, to go and retrieve Ryan's abandoned Bronco. Chad hadn't laughed at Ryan at all, for which he was grateful, but now he felt the need to clear the air between them a little. If only to avoid any misunderstandings.

"I mean it." Ryan couldn't help feeling defensive, even though he hadn't let his friend get a word in edgewise yet. "I'm _not_ gay."

"I _know_!" Chad reached across the gear shift and punched him in the shoulder, easy and natural. Ryan felt better, that there had been no hesitation on Chad's part to touch him. In theory both he and Chad were "open minded" -- you couldn't go to college in Los Angeles and not be -- but this was involving one of them directly, and Ryan was fairly certain that if their roles had been reversed, he might have been having a little more trouble with the concept than Chad was exhibiting.

Then again, maybe that led credence to what Chloe had said, about just "knowing" Ryan wasn't completely straight.

"Did you think I was gay?" he asked, suddenly anxious, and Chad groaned.

"God, Ryan! You are such an ass-hat." Chad rolled his head back against his seat, glaring at his friend through still bed-messy bangs. "Are you serious?"

"I'm just...." Ryan dragged his hands through his hair and sort of wished that he wasn't trapped in the car with Chad, unable to flee this conversation if he wanted to. "Was I giving out a 'vibe' or something? I mean, you're not very surprised...."

"Is that what this is about?" Chad snorted, a mocking sound. "Let me guess; Chloe said something to you."

Ryan shrugged, not wanting to place all the blame on Chloe, but it sort of _was_ her fault he suddenly felt a little insecure in his masculinity.

Chad sighed heavily. "Dude. Don't think about things so hard. You're only going to mess yourself up."

"Yeah, but--"

"No!" Chad snapped a forefinger at him, making it a command, not a denial. Then he rubbed at his lower lip, glancing over at Ryan with a speculative gleam in his eyes. "No, it wasn't a 'vibe' or anything, okay? Seriously, bro, don't sweat it. And don't blow this, okay? You're dating a _professor_. Easy A!"

Ryan's mouth fell open in shock. "CHAD!"

"What?" Chad was grinning at him, and Ryan wasn't sure whether to take his friend seriously or not. With Chad you never could tell.

"Anyway, I'm probably going to drop European History," Ryan informed him. He'd thought about it last night, in between replaying the goodnight kiss in his mind over and over and fighting the urge to phone Chloe.

"Are you crazy?!" Chad stared at him. Fortunately the car was idling at a red light just then. "You're going to pass up this golden opportunity?!

Ryan shook his head. "I can't be in Daniel's class and date him. That's not ethical, and I wouldn't want to risk getting him in trouble."

Chad quirked a brow at him, that speculative look coming over his face again. "So, you're going to start going out with him? Like, regularly?"

Ryan flushed a little, scrubbing his jaw and thinking that he probably should have shaved before he left but it was too late now. "Well, I suppose that depends on him, but... he's really cool, Chad."

Chad flicked the turn signal. They were at the restaurant and there was his Bronco, right where he had left it. Ryan was glad to see it hadn't been towed, because that would have been even more awkward.

"I don't doubt you," Chad said, parking next to Ryan's vehicle. "You wouldn't put out for just any guy--"

"Chad!!"

Chad laughed as Ryan grabbed his backpack and opened his door. "Don't get your panties in a knot."

"I'm _not GAY_!"

"Gay, bi, whatever." Chad shrugged. "I think you're an idiot, quitting the class just 'cause you're dating the professor."

Ryan glowered. "I'm just more principled than you, I guess." He tilted his head, quizzical. "So, we're cool?"

"We're cool." Chad chuckled, holding out his fist. Ryan knocked knuckles with him, smiling crookedly. "Don't sweat it, all right? Just make sure he doesn't break your heart."

"You don't need to worry about me," Ryan protested.

"Just don't wanna put up with your whining anymore," Chad informed him, tone dry, but his gaze affectionate. "Had enough of that when Chloe dumped your ass. Twice."

Ryan pulled a face. "Thanks for reminding me." He climbed out of the car and leaned down to peer back in, fumbling for his keys in his pocket. "Thanks for the ride. And for... you know...."

"Not freaking out?" Chad's wide mouth curved in a wicked grin. "What do you think I am, huh? Just remember that you owe me."

"How about I _don't_ go into details the first time I get nailed and we call it even?"

Ryan slammed the door on Chad's howl of outrage, chortling unrepentantly. He patted the window, then turned to unlock his Bronco as Chad peeled out of the parking lot. He pretended not to notice the hand thrust out the driver's window, middle finger upraised, but he couldn't help laughing. It was partially in relief. He wasn't sure what he'd expected of Chad -- had honestly been too busy dealing with his _own_ reaction to this belated sexual awakening to give consideration to how his best friend would respond -- but he'd certainly been pleasantly surprised.

Not that he didn't fully expect Chad to give him hell for it. But he'd be giving Chad hell right back, so it was all good.

Tossing his backpack into the passenger foot well, Ryan started the engine. He had just enough time to get to the campus, to make his first class of the day. Chad was undoubtedly headed back to his own bed; Ryan really was grateful that his friend had been willing to get up and drive him over here. He'd have to, like, pick up a six-pack or something on his way home. After his coffee date with Daniel....

And, wow, wasn't that something to look forward to! Dread, even. No. No, not dread. But he was definitely nervous, and uncertain about seeing Daniel in class today. It was going to be strange, watching him speak, when all he'd be able to concentrate on would be those lush lips and the way they had felt on his own the night before.

Not dread, and he was pretty sure that he'd come to be at peace with his undeniable attraction toward Professor Daniel Thorpe, but he _did_ feel a certain twist of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He'd probably worry more if he _hadn't_ been nervous.

He had Spanish first, and he did his best to pay attention; recalling what Daniel had said to him last week, about a man following through on any course he had chosen. But, really, he wasn't going to be good for much of anything until he'd gotten through the day and his promised coffee date with Daniel. It was kind of sad, but that was the way it was going to be.

And had it only been one week since he'd spaced out in European History, mooning over Chloe, and been lectured by Daniel after class? Incredible, how things had changed....

"Ryan!"

He started as he walked out of Spanish class only to find Chloe smacking him in the chest. "Ow!"

"Jerk! Why haven't you called me?"

"Why haven't _you_ called me?" Ryan protested, rubbing his chest and glaring.

"You were supposed to call me!" Chloe glared back.

"No, _you_ were supposed to call _me_! It was your little experiment," Ryan protested.

"Yeah, but you're the one who--" Chloe broke off with a huff, hands on her hips.

Ryan could help it. He laughed. Just a little.

Chloe broke down and grinned back at him. "So? How did things go?"

"Boy, have I got something to tell you," Ryan answered impishly, and so he did, over lunch. Chloe's eyes got suitably wide, and Ryan was actually somewhat appeased by her reaction, as opposed to Chad's calm acceptance. Not that he wasn't glad Chad had taken it so well... but when Chloe actually _squeaked_ , he couldn't help but crack up.

"Wow, Ryan, I...." Chloe trailed off, speechless, worrying at her sandwich wrapper with both hands. Her mouth was as round as her hazel eyes. "I didn't expect you to...."

"Take what you said and run with it?" Ryan prompted, grinning. He took a sip of soda, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to them. Nobody seemed to be. "Well, it's not like I asked _him_ out. It was Daniel's idea both times."

Chloe blinked. "I'm--"

"Stunned?" Ryan smirked, then relented. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea, after all. "It's not like I didn't mean all the stuff I said to you on the phone Tuesday night. I really did think that.... But between then and now...."

"It's okay, Ryan." Chloe reached across the table and grasped his wrist. The passing thought flitted through his head that Daniel's hand would have completely ringed his wrist if it had been him, not Chloe here, and he flushed a little. "When it's right, you know it. You had to try so hard to convince me, remember?"

Ryan shrugged. "Not like I'm going to forget."

Chloe shook his wrist slightly. "No, I mean.... Well, it worked, right?" She tipped her head. "You showed me all the reasons that I should love you, and I did. I do. But...."

"Not like that," Ryan supplied. He smiled, a little sadly, because this was admitting that he and Chloe were really over. And they'd both be going on to better things, surely, but that didn't mean that this didn't hurt, at least a little. "I get that now."

"Well, I'm just saying," Chloe continued, withdrawing her hand, a small frown line between her brows. "That when it's really right, you know it."

Ryan collected his lunch detritus, giving it a few moments of consideration. "I guess...." He certainly had felt a connection with Daniel in just days that it had taken him weeks to reach with Chloe. "I'm not sure I buy the whole 'love at first sight' thing. But I know when something feels right."

Chloe smiled at him, an embarrassingly sappy expression on her face.

"Soooo... you still want to be friends; does that make you a great big ol' fag hag?" Ryan asked, wanting to break the mood before it became too humiliating.

"Ryan!" She squeaked again, smacking his shoulder, but she was grinning widely and he was pretty sure that things were all right between them now. "You jerk!"

He laughed, Chloe laughed with him, and then she had to run in order to get to her next class on time.

Ryan, though, had an hour to kill before European History started, and he found himself on the same bench he'd been perched on last Tuesday, when Daniel had asked him out for coffee. When he'd been planning to ambush Chloe and being possibly-gay hadn't been the furthest thing from his mind; it had never even entered his mind at all.

Well, he still didn't think he was gay. But there was no denying that he was interested in a guy. How that could be classified, he didn't know or care. He was just going to do as so many had already advised and follow his heart. It felt like the right thing to do.

His cell phone rang and he tugged it out of his pocket. He'd half expected it to be Chad, but a glance at the display disproved that notion.

Despite his words to Jessica Martin directly after the whole mess and the passing wish he'd had from time to time, never to see her again, Ryan always answered when she called him. Today was no different.

"Hi, Jessica," he said cheerfully, checking his watch to make sure he had time to chat. He had plenty of leeway.

"Hello, Ryan," she replied, her soft voice clear and light. She sounded as though she was smiling. "I'm just so used to a land line; I'm always surprised when you know it's me before you answer."

Ryan chuckled. "So, what's up?"

"Nothing really. I'm waiting for Ricky while he's in his therapy session and I thought of you. We haven't heard from you in almost a month and I just sort of wanted to see how you're doing."

Ryan thought how lucky he'd been that he hadn't needed therapy. Well, some might argue that he _had_ , but those were the people who thought that it was a freaking _privilege_ to pay someone hundreds of dollars an hour to listen to them talk about their feelings. Jessica and her son had been through a lot more than he had, so he didn't begrudge them the outside help. But he didn't think that it was anything that he needed. Daniel hadn't seemed to think so either.

"I'm doing great," he assured Jessica, unable to help himself smiling. If only she knew just _how_ great he was doing.... But at much as he liked Jessica -- she reminded him a little of his mother and a little of the older sister he'd never had -- he didn't feel comfortable talking to her about this latest development in his life. Maybe in a while, after he'd had time to come to grips with it himself. Though he didn't think he was doing too badly so far. After all, he'd been dumped, gone on a date with a guy, had to admit to himself that he'd _wanted_ to go on the date with said guy, and shared a same-sex kiss, which he had enjoyed, all in the space of one week....

It was a lot to process, but he thought he was doing okay. Still, that didn't mean he wanted to tell Jessica all about it.

"I'm glad to hear that," Jessica was saying, and she meant it. Ryan raised his face to the sun, his eyes closed, and breathed in the scent of the day; it smelled like freshly mown grass. Life was good. He knew he was going to be nervous as hell when he walked into European History, and even more so when he and Daniel went to have coffee. He hadn't really freaked out as much as expected the first time a man had kissed him, but there were a lot more "firsts" coming up, and he wasn't going to be able to handle them all with aplomb. He was going to have to decide what class to take in place of European History, and from his talks with Daniel he knew that it would have to be something to help him with his future career, in which case he was really going to have to decide what he wanted to do with his life.

Still, right here and right now, he was feeling okay. Optimistic, even.

"How are you doing?" he asked Jessica. She'd had a lot more of her life to rebuild than he'd had. She'd killed a man, even though it had been in self defense. She'd been held captive and beaten. She'd seen her son and husband in mortal danger. Her housekeeper had been shot right before her eyes. Ryan sometimes worried about her, even though she was strong, and she had Ricky, Craig, and her therapist.

"I'm good," she replied, and it wasn't as promising as his "great", but he was glad to hear it. "Really. I've slept through the night without pills or nightmares for a full week now, and we've sold the house."

"How's your new place?" Ryan asked. As soon as they could, the Martin family had moved. Ryan didn't think he could blame them. He hadn't seen the new house, but he'd heard that it was gorgeous. It was good that they'd finally unloaded the old one. He wondered if the new owners knew that two women had been shot dead in the building. Certainly that couldn't have been a selling point.

"Oh, just lovely. We got new tiles put in the bathrooms and the landscaper finally finished the side yard. You should come and see it."

"That would be nice," Ryan said, and they both knew that it wasn't going to happen, but she felt better for offering the invitation and he would have felt rude refusing outright.

"You sound really happy, Ryan," Jessica offered. "I mean, happier than I've heard you in a while."

"Well, things are starting to settle down." That was the truth, at least. "No more trips to Court, so I can concentrate on my schooling."

Jessica let out a small trill of laughter. "And that makes you happy? Remind me to hold you up to Ricky as an example when he whines about doing his homework."

Ryan chortled. "Don't think I'd go that far," he protested, though he was grinning when he said this. Ricky had seemed such a quiet, well-behaved mother's boy when Ryan had seen him. The kid needed to cut up a little, even if it was only in complaining about homework.

"How's Chloe?" Jessica asked after a moment. She'd always liked Chloe, and Chloe had liked her. Ryan wasn't quite ready to tell Jessica that Chloe had dumped him; especially since he and Chloe had agreed they were going to stay friends. Not because he thought that Jessica would get angry at Chloe -- or him -- but just because that would get them started into a conversation that couldn't help but wind up mentioning Daniel, and Ryan didn't have time to get into that before he had to head to class and actually _see_ Daniel.

"She's doing well." That was true. "She's volunteering at the local shelter and working part time at the coffee shop, so we don't see each other much anymore. That's okay, though," he hurried to add. "She lost a lot of time when she was helping me with my Court dates and stuff."

"She's sweet," Jessica murmured. "I just hope she's leaving herself some time to be herself."

"Well, that's part of what _makes_ her Chloe; her big heart." Ryan glanced at his watch. "Oh, hey, sorry to blow you off, but I have to head to class now."

"That's all right." Jessica didn't sound upset. "I just wanted to hear that you were doing okay. And you are."

"Better than okay," Ryan assured her. "I'm doing great!"

Jessica laughed lightly. "Well, whatever it is you're doing, keep doing it. Because you deserve to be happy, Ryan."

"I.... Thanks." What did one say to something like that? "You do too."

"Oh, I'm happy," Jessica said softly, and she didn't quite convince him, but she wasn't lying either. "Some days are harder than others, but I have Ricky and Craig. We're doing all right together."

"You guys were all so brave," Ryan said, breath catching in his chest a little. Jessica had been the one to take out two of the crooked cops -- one of them permanently -- but Craig had captured the hit on film and done his best to expose the bastards for what they were. And Ricky... well, the kid had been through a lot, but he had bounced back admirably, from what Ryan had seen.

"Take care, Ryan," Jessica instructed, and he had the sneaking suspicion that she knew there was something up between he and Chloe, but she wasn't going to say anything. Which was just fine with him. He'd tell her, but later.

"You too. And thanks for calling. I'll try not to let it go so long next time," he promised.

"You're a college student, you're busy," Jessica demurred. "Don't worry about it. If you don't call me, I'll call you."

"Deal." Ryan grinned, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and setting out toward the lecture hall. "I'll talk to you later, then."

"Good bye, Ryan."

"Bye!"

He bounded to class, thinking that it had been nice to talk to Jessica, and she'd called at the perfect time, distracting him while he was waiting to go to class and keeping him from fretting himself into a froth.

He didn't have a chance to talk to Daniel before class began, but that was all right because he wasn't sure what he would have said. He got enough of a dip in his belly when he saw the man standing at the head of the lecture hall. Ryan felt like a teenager with a stupid crush, but that didn't stop his heart jumping when Daniel looked directly at him and _winked_. He couldn't help but smile back, and then Daniel's gaze moved elsewhere and the moment was over.

They'd gotten the heating regulated, and the temperature in the hall was finally comfortable. Ryan was grateful, though it would have been nice to see Daniel stripped of his jacket, with his sleeves rolled up again. But then, Ryan thought that maybe he didn't want anyone else to see _his_ professor like that. And he was a little freaked out by this unexpected surge of possessiveness, but it made him even more certain that their coming coffee date was a good idea.

He'd always followed his instincts. Which was why the Martin family was alive. And now it was the reason that Daniel caught his eye toward the end of class and smiled with _meaning_. Ryan tried not to blush, and he'd done his best to pay attention during the lesson, really he had, but it was just so difficult.

"So, did you hear a word I said today?" Daniel asked lightly when Ryan joined him after class was over and all the students had departed.

"Some," Ryan grinned. "I heard 'the'. I heard 'and'. I think there were a few 'that's and 'this's...."

Daniel laughed, showing his white teeth. Ryan was so glad that Daniel had shaved off the beard, that he'd seen him at the gym, seen the man beneath the "professor" image. But even more, he was glad that he'd gotten a chance to get to know Daniel, to find out who he really was. There was a lot more to learn, but it looked as though he was going to get that chance. And he was going to do his best not to blow it.

"So. Ready for some coffee?"

Ryan nodded decisively. "Ready. And it's my treat today, don't forget."

"Wasn't planning on it." Daniel's smile was intimate and open and just for him, and it stayed with him all the way to the coffee shop, along with the phantom warmth at the small of his back, where Daniel's hand rested until they reached the common area.

This was definitely the beginning of something. And Ryan was determined to see it through, all the way to its end. Though, if he had his way, it wouldn't ever end. He was looking forward to nothing but a continuing series of beginnings.

Oh, Lord, he really was besotted, wasn't he?

And yet, he didn't feel bad about that. Not in the slightest.


	10. friday redux

**[friday redux]**

"You know what kinda sucks?"

"Hm?" Daniel shifted his head where it was resting on Ryan's thigh, gazing up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "What could possibly 'suck'?"

Ryan could understand the sentiment. They were deep in the heart of The Angeles National Forest and had a shady spot on the bank of the San Gabriel River all to themselves. The water was gurgling, the sun was shining, the foliage was green, and they'd just shared a really sinfully delicious picnic lunch. Now they were lounging, enjoying their stolen Friday afternoon together.

They'd been going out for almost a month now, and sometimes Ryan couldn't believe it. It felt like they'd just started going out, it felt as though they'd been dating forever already.... When he was with Daniel, he really seemed to lose all sense of time.

God, that was disgustingly sappy.

"Well, it's just that...." Ryan heaved a sigh, resting his hand over the firm muscles of Daniel's chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart, absorbing the heat of his skin through the thin shirt he was wearing. "I think I was starting to like studying European History," he confessed.

Daniel stared up at him for a moment, his expression incredulous, and Ryan savored the rare occurrence. It wasn't often he rendered his lover speechless.

"You--" Suddenly, though not unexpectedly, Daniel burst into great whoops of laughter, rolling slightly, though his head never left Ryan's lap.

"Yeah, yeah, yuck it up," Ryan muttered, trying for resentment, but he was grinning too widely to expect that he would be taken seriously at all.

Daniel stilled abruptly, gazing up at him. "Well, there's nothing to say I couldn't tutor you in our free time."

Ryan's eyes rounded and he couldn't stop the smirk that spread over his face. "Private lessons, professor? Ooh, kinky!"

Daniel blinked up at him, slow and sleepy, a lazy smile curving those lush lips. "Mm. You could be on to something. Would you like me to wear a tweed jacket? Bend you over the desk every time you get an answer wrong?"

"Oh." Ryan wasn't embarrassed by the fact that he swallowed quite audibly, or by the sudden swell in the crotch of his jeans. After all, that was an incredibly _hot_ mental image, and one he'd been half-aware of entertaining when he'd been in Daniel's office to apologize that afternoon they had set up their first real date.

Distracted by this delicious fantasy, Ryan didn't even notice Daniel was moving until he was sprawled on his back with the older man pressing him into the checkered blanket they were sitting on.

"You like that idea?" Daniel murmured, nose and lips brushing Ryan's jaw, an eager hand cupped between his thighs. He was propped on one elbow over Ryan, their chests sharing heat through the material of their shirts. Their breathing was out of synch, their chests brushing, and Ryan tipped his head back as Daniel's mouth traced up the line of his neck, tongue flickering out to track the wild pulsing of his jugular.

"I do," he husked honestly. There was no reason not to admit it; especially since his body had already given him away. His arms crept up to ring Daniel's neck, fingers brushing at the short hairs at his nape. "I don't... don't think the tweed jacket is necessary, though."

Daniel raised his head, grinning down at Ryan, his eyes twinkling. "That's just as well; I don't actually own one."

"You could, uh, wear a tie, though," Ryan suggested, licking his lips in a deliberately provocative manner. "And roll your sleeves up...."

"The casual professor," Daniel rumbled, teeth nipping at Ryan's collarbone, fingers flexing where they were settled in his crotch. Ryan gasped, back arching, arms tightening. "I think that's doable."

"Do you think I'll learn much?" Ryan asked breathlessly, clutching Daniel's broad shoulders. He was rocking slightly underneath Daniel, reveling in the larger body that had him pinned down so effectively. It never ceased to surprise him, how much being overpowered turned him on. Evidently he had a lot of kinks that he never would have discovered with a girl. Daniel definitely brought out the pervert in him.

"Oh, I can virtually guarantee that." Daniel's tongue was warm-wet and lithe as it twined around Ryan's earlobe, drawing it into his mouth for some lazy suction, dragging a violent shudder out of him.

"Hn.... Much about European History?" Ryan barely had the presence of mind to pursue. Daniel was still stroking him, gently but steadily, and very much more stimulation was going to get uncomfortable. Or so he thought, until he felt the distinct pop-and-tug of his jeans being undone. "Whoa!"

Daniel chuckled, his mouth capturing Ryan's in a gratifyingly sloppy kiss, fingers skimming down Ryan's flat belly, into his fly, and under the elastic of his boxers.

"Shit! Daniel! We can't!" Ryan gasped, though he was clinging tight and his hips shot up into the heated fingers that slid easily around him, grip careful but firm. "Not here!"

"No one is around," Daniel murmured in his ear, breath gusting moist and sending shivers over the surface of Ryan's body.

"Oh. Oh, fuck!" Ryan couldn't help rocking harder, moving into the practiced, skillful touch, burying his face in the curve where Daniel's neck and shoulder met. They _were_ in a public place, but he hadn't seen anyone in the last two hours. The chances of getting caught were slim, but the chance was there. Just enough to add a certain spice, and Ryan would never have thought that he had a kink for public sex, but then, he hadn't known before that he had a 'teacher' kink. The thought of being bent over Daniel's desk, though....

"Holy-- Holy f-fuck!" If Daniel had been a girl, Ryan would have been embarrassed by how quickly he got off. But then, if Daniel had been a girl, Ryan doubted he _would_ have gotten off so quickly. And he certainly wouldn't have sunk his teeth tightly into the juncture of neck and shoulder, biting through the thin shirt and undoubtedly leaving a mark. "Ah!"

A reciprocal hand job would have been polite, but Ryan had all he could do to catch his breath, his arms still wrapped around Daniel's shoulders, face still hidden against his neck. Daniel's hands were so large, his body blanketing Ryan's, he was so powerful and forceful, dragging the pleasure from Ryan's body before he was even aware of just how _much_ he was feeling.

"So, I'm free tomorrow afternoon," Daniel purred in Ryan's ear, his voice even and calm, as though his erection wasn't throbbing against Ryan's hip, hot and hard, oh so ready. "And I have a large antique desk in my office at home...."

Ryan's breath caught, and a tingle went through him even though he'd just gotten off. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" he choked out incredulously.

Before Daniel could answer, Ryan squirmed out from under him. He glanced around. They were still alone, no sign of anyone nearby. Urging Daniel over onto his back, in a half-reclining sprawl, Ryan made short work of his lover's fly. "My turn," he purred, fishing Daniel's cock out of his briefs. As always, he was slightly intimidated by the sheer size of it... but he was nothing if not daring.

After all what better way was there to repay a glorious handjob than an equally enthusiastic blowjob? It was only etiquette.

Going down on Daniel was always an adventure in itself, and by the time he was done -- not that it took all that long -- his jaw was aching. But it was so worth it, especially when he managed to drag the most _undignified_ noises out of the older man's throat.

Tucking themselves back in, they slumped together on the blanket. Cooling down. Enjoying the afternoon sunlight. Ryan took a surreptitious sip of soda; he'd gotten used to the taste of come, didn't spit it out like some girls he'd dated had done, but that didn't mean he really liked it all that much. It was a part of sex with Daniel, though, like their mingled sweat, lube, the smell of Daniel's cologne....

"What are you thinking?" Daniel murmured, and he was masculine enough that the question didn't sound girly. His fingers were tangled in Ryan's hair and he moved so that his head was resting on Daniel's shoulder.

"Mmm." Really, Ryan was riding his afterglow and not thinking of much of anything. Even with the "private tutoring" to anticipate the following day. There was a question he'd been meaning to ask, though, for almost a month, and he kept forgetting, or it wasn't the right time. "I was just wondering," he said, in a slightly dreamy voice, feeling relaxed and boneless, still tingling from his orgasm. "That night at The Golden Dragon, I read you my fortune but you didn't tell me yours."

He half expected Daniel to say something like, _That's still bothering you?_ Or, _Don't say stupid things._ But after a few moments of silence, all his lover did was chuckle a little.

"It said, _Hold onto the love that you have found_ ," he offered, with absolutely no irony in his tone. His hand was large and warm, cradling the base of Ryan's skull. "I figured it was better to hold onto that one, rather than share it with you right away."

Ryan didn't say anything, because what was there to say?

"It was right, though," Daniel mused, his voice soft and thoughtful.

"I.... Yeah." Ryan bit his lip. They didn't really _say_ it, hadn't, probably wouldn't, not for a long time, but that didn't mean that they didn't feel it. "Yeah, well, me too," he said awkwardly.

Daniel's arms tightened and that was enough for both of them. They lay together, limbs tangled, beside the tumbling river, watching the green leaves wave to the blue sky above. It was amazing the way everything had fallen into place.

And all it had taken was a little internally honesty. Damn it, Chloe had been right all along. Not that Ryan minded. Not in the slightest. Because this was where he wanted to be, and nothing was going to change that.

"Are you ready to head back?"

Ryan curled closer and answered honestly.

"No. Not yet. I like it here."

"All right."

And so, for a while longer, they stayed.

 

_**[end]** _


End file.
